Stripped
by reagan o'connor
Summary: Bella finds herself trapped in a bad relationship and takes off to start a new life. She finds work as an exotic dancer, and finds she must overcome many issues in order to build a new relationship with a new man, Edward Cullen. **ADULT THEMES** OOC, AH.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**PART I**

**BELLA**

**Chapter 1**

The Present

I awoke to the western sun slanting through the window. Scowling, I rolled over on the futon, hiding my face in the crack between the wall and the covers. This new schedule was taking some getting used to; I wasn't accustomed to sleeping away the entire day. There was something seedy and desperate about being a day-sleeper. I laughed humorlessly; I _was_ seedy and desperate, after all.

I yawned and stretched and walked through the small apartment into the four-square-foot kitchen, turned on the coffee maker and combed my fingers through my long, tangled dark hair. I thought again for the hundredth time how the word "efficiency" did not nearly describe the small space I'd been living in for the past three months. Living my seedy, desperate life. Running away from everything and everyone. Hiding from those who would hurt me, even kill me.

I shook my head, willing the thoughts away. Walking towards the bathroom, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

* * * * *

By seven o'clock I was on my way to work, radio blaring over the loud truck engine. At a stoplight I lit my first cigarette of the day and rummaged through my bag for another CD. I breathed deeply, already surprised at how quickly I'd taken to smoking. Most of the girls at work smoked, and one day after a couple of drinks and a desire to impress my manager, I bummed a cigarette. I'd done OK with that first one; I'd lit the correct end and hadn't choked on my first drag. I smiled to myself as I remembered seeing a drunk sorority girl light the wrong end of a Marlboro in the off-campus bar where I worked. Every time I saw the girl in my Econ class with her entourage of rich, coiffed BFFs, I pictured her waving around the blackened filter, spitting out bits of tobacco and smiled.

Now I was a pro. At smoking, at running away.

The light changed. I put the truck into first and gunned it. I smiled ruefully as the truck lurched forward; no one would ever want this truck for anything. It barely got 10 miles to the gallon, and didn't quite get up to sixty on the expressway. Still, it was one of the few things I owned, a gift from Charlie. Back when life was normal.

How had I fallen so far so fast? Everything was fine in Forks, Washington. I'd graduated from high school with good grades and a partial scholarship to Dartmouth College, of all places. Charlie had been thrilled to have Ivy League Material for a daughter, and wasted no time in sharing the good news with the entire town. Renee had been just as excited and even offered to sell the house in Phoenix to help with the tuition. Phil had been offered a contract with the Houston Astros farm team, and they were living in a condo outside of the city. I suspected that Renee was only hanging on to the house for my benefit, but I wasn't exactly sure why.

I shook my head at the memory. There would have been no earthly way to swing Dartmouth, and Mike had been adamant about us _both_ going to Peninsula.

_Mike._

I cringed.

Mike Newton. The all-around nice guy from a good family, who practically courted Charlie before trying to date me. He went fishing with Charlie a few times a month, and finally convinced me to date him during our senior year of high school. After a year of dogging me at every turn, not to mention having Charlie driving me nuts about what a "nice boy that Newton kid is," I had acquiesced and agreed to go out with him. Once. There was no turning back after that. He'd started picking me up for school every day, following me around town, even shadowed me when I went to Port Angeles a few times with Angela for a girl's day out. A few times I even had the distinct feeling that he had been in my house when I wasn't there… but I shrugged it off as an overreaction. Part of me thought that some of his actions seemed strange, but a bigger part of me was happy to have the attention and the diversion of an attentive boyfriend.

Mike had always seemed a bit insecure, but that insecurity went through the roof when he found out I'd been accepted to Dartmouth. He accused me of running away, of leading him on, of not taking our relationship seriously, of putting myself above everyone else around me. When he brought up how expensive it would be, and what a financial burden I would be for my parents, I acquiesced quickly, not wanting to create problems. I enrolled at Peninsula.

Mike had decided that since we were both going to Peninsula, we needed to live in Port Angeles instead of commuting from home. He wouldn't even consider living in the dorms, and insisted that we get an apartment together, and I'd needed to find a part-time job in addition to a full load of classes my first semester. Mike had decided that he couldn't work and go to school at the same time, so the brunt of the responsibility had fallen to me to pay rent and living expenses. I'd seen him have a few beers here and there, mostly when we went to First Beach at La Push with other kids from school. But nothing prepared me for the raging drunk Mike became once exposed to campus life. It mortified me to remember how he'd smacked me around a few times (always apologizing afterwards), and I'd found more than a few new phone numbers in his cell phone. I knew better than to approach him about it, as he'd either get mad at me for snooping (most likely), get defensive (very likely) or claim that they were the numbers of English tutors (only likely if he was drunk). Regardless, I would be in for a very bad evening. It was usually better to leave it alone. And since my name was on the apartment lease, I couldn't very well leave without losing a lot of money.

Until the day I'd come home from work early and found him in bed with one of his English tutors. I'd stood in the bedroom doorway, too shocked to speak, while English Tutor had gathered her clothes, giggling nervously. Mike had lain back in the bed – _our bed_ – and lit a cigarette, acting as if nothing had happened.

I'd been wooden, incapable of movement, the shock and surprise too much for my system to process. I'd finally walked into the living room and sat down on the floor, not even looking up when English Tutor closed the front door behind her with a soft click. This was the man to whom I'd given two years of my life; given up my dreams, my freedom, my virginity. At the thought my stomach lurched. I scrambled to my feet, barely making it to the toilet.

Afterward I wiped my mouth, splashed my face with cool water, and picked up my toothbrush.

It was wet. English Tutor must have borrowed it.

I dropped it into the garbage can and began to cry.

Three months later, I was living on my own for the first time in my life, a small apartment I'd procured with a little help from Renee and the belongings I'd managed to stuff into my truck one night while Mike was passed out, sneaking back into the bedroom one last time to grab the laptop Charlie had given me as a graduation present. Some things were just more important than a security deposit.

I'd crossed into northern California and stopped when I came to a town called New Journey, in need of gas and food and human interaction. The very name of the town seemed significant, so I stayed. I'd called Renee to let her know where I was, and despite her obvious shock, she didn't ask as many questions as I expected. I told her that I was having an attack of needing to be on my own for a while, and asked her to call Charlie for me. I figured that Charlie would hunt Mike down and kill him if he knew what had really transpired. Besides, he'd be embarrassed that his judgment of Mike was so far off, and so I steered clear of having that particular conversation with him.

I started slightly as I pulled into the parking lot. I'd been on autopilot the entire way here, lost in the fresh memories. I cut the engine, grabbed my bag and locked the truck.

A tall, well-muscled, dark-skinned security guard stepped out of the doorway on a side of the building and walked towards me. I smiled and waved. "Hello, Laurent."

He smiled back, eyes scanning the lot behind me.

"Hello, Bella."

* * * * *

A/N: To my knowledge, there is no town in northern California called New Journey. Purely a figment of my strange and overactive imagination. Please excuse the first few chapters, as there is a lot of back story that needs to be introduced. Thanks for reading, please consider reviewing!

Special thanks to AzureEyedI for the clarification on Houston's baseball team. I love sharp-eyed reviewers! ;)

* * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 2**

I stopped when I reached Laurent.

"How is it today?"

He shrugged.

"Pretty quiet, actually. Not too busy, but that's typical for this time. You know how it is." He didn't looking at me, still scanning the lot with his deep brown eyes.

_Not exactly. After all, I've only been doing this for about a week now. I'm not entirely certain what 'typical' is._

Something about his eyes made me uncomfortable. "Everything OK?"

He didn't answer. "Something just seems a little off, that's all." He finally looked at me and smiled, an obvious attempt to be reassuring. "I'm sure it's nothing." He backed towards the door and held it open for me.

I walked inside quickly, not sure if the chill I felt was due to the blast of air conditioning or something else.

* * * * *

The Past

I had shown up here less than a month ago, answering an ad in the local paper for a waitress. The bartender directed me to the manager's office, and I shook hands with an attractive, muscular blonde man seated behind the cluttered desk.

"James." He introduced himself.

"Bella" I answered.

He cocked his head to one side and looked at her thoughtfully. "You don't look like a 'Bella.'"

I puzzled. _What does a 'Bella' look like?_

"Amaryllis will know what you look like." He nodded.

_Amaryllis?_

James smiled at me, showing a lot of straight, white teeth. "It doesn't matter. It's an act, anyway. Amaryllis has been working here a while. She'll know what you look like, she'll choose your name."

_I need a new name to be a waitress? _Aloud I asked, "Does this mean you're giving me the job?"

James smiled again. "Have you ever been a waitress anywhere?"

"No, but I used to cook at home all of the time, and I worked for a sporting goods store when I was in high school. And I was a bartender…" I trailed off, not wanting to provide more information than necessary about my more recent past. "For a while back in college."

James looked at me thoughtfully. "Waitresses make five bucks an hour and whatever tips you get. You give the bartender ten bucks a night. Bus your own tables and be on time. No touching patrons."

I looked quizzically at him. "Why would I be touching patrons?"

James was incredulous. "You do realize that this is a strip bar, right?" he asked.

My eyes widened. "_A strip bar?" _I repeated.

James laughed again. "Yeah. A strip bar. The same rules that apply to the dancers apply to wait staff. No touching patrons either male or female, no touching the other girls, no nudity. The dancers don't take kindly to the wait staff horning in on their tips, if you know what I mean." He looked at me carefully.

I processed this. Then I asked, "When can I start?"

James crossed his arms and sighed. "Well, the thing is… "He drew this out, as if he didn't want to tell me something. "Right now, I don't really need wait staff." He sat back in his chair. "I just hired a girl a few weeks ago. I usually run the ad in the newspaper for a month, since I get a better deal that way. Besides, if they don't work out, I usually know within a week, and I have someone else interested without having to run another ad." He assessed me thoughtfully. "You might work out as a dancer, though."

I nearly choked. "A _dancer?_" I tried stifling a laugh and failed miserably. "There is _no way _I could do that." I shook my head for emphasis.

James hitched his shoulders. "It's up to you. You are attractive enough, kind of a 'girl-next-door' thing going for you." He pointed at my chest. "Those are real, aren't they?"

I crossed my arms over my chest reflexively. "I'm sorry?"

James laughed. "I can usually tell, and yours look real. Which is a plus. You seem well-proportioned." He nodded. "Would you be interested in dancing?"

I was taken aback by the suggestion. I'd always been such a wallflower at home in Phoenix. When I'd moved to Forks, several of the boys had quickly taken interest in me, and though I'd been embarrassed, I had also been flattered by the attention. Then there was Mike, who had always told me how pretty I was, and was so protective of me. At least, at first. To have this guy be so straightforward, calling me attractive, it was nice in a weird way.

_Attractive enough to be an exotic dancer?_

I straightened in my chair and crossed my legs. "I'd like to think about it."

James smiled at me and nodded again. "Why don't you give yourself a week, then come back next Monday and audition? We don't open until two o'clock, so you can get a feel for the place, try out the stage, and there won't be anyone here but me and the daytime bartender."

_Would it really hurt to _consider _it?_

"Oh, I almost forgot." James continued. "Dancers usually make between thirty and eighty bucks an hour. On average." He eyed me carefully, but I kept my expression impassive. "Fifteen to the bartender, fifteen to the DJ, each shift. We have several shifts to choose from. You aren't on the books, we don't pay you a dime. You're kind of a 'private contractor.'" He laughed at his own joke.

I remained impassive, but I did the mental math. Thirty bucks per hour cash plus tips was probably more than Charlie had made as Police Chief Swan in the small town of Forks, considering taxes...

I chewed my lip. "I'm not really sure… _how._ I mean, I've never done anything like this before." _As if he hadn't realized this already._

"That's OK. You can always just stop in, sit at the bar and watch. Most of the girls check out a bar that they want to work at. The bar opens at eleven in the morning, although evenings are busiest. Tuesdays are the slowest day of the week."

"OK." I stood and held out my hand. "I'll see you next week, then."

* * * * *

A million thoughts had raced through my head that night as I lay in bed.

_Could I really do this? Where would I find stripper clothes? What kind of music is good? How would I learn to dance right? Would the money be good enough? What if I fall down?_ (Considering my serious lack of grace, this was definitely within the realm of mortifying possibility.) _ What would Charlie say? What would Renee say? What if someone I know walks into the bar while I'm dancing? How do I find a real job while I'm doing this? Would anybody hire me if they found out?_

After hours of tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

I killed some time the next day by walking to a local park, then found my way to the grocery store around the corner from my apartment. It was strange living someplace so unfamiliar. My move to Forks hadn't been such a big deal, since I'd visited the town every summer for so many years. This was the first time I'd ever been out on my own, and I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed the solitude. A part of me was pleased that what I had told Renee – that I needed to be out on my own for a while – was turning out to be true. I'd been fortunate that the landlord had been willing to give me a month-to-month lease and hadn't required either a credit check or references. The building seemed to be half-empty, and I assumed the housing market had tanked here just as much as it had in Port Angeles.

I put the groceries away and spread out the classifieds section of the paper I'd bought. The _New Journey Ledger_ had their want ads online, but the town didn't seem to have a decent coffee shop, let alone a wireless hotspot, so I had no way of accessing their Web site. I made a mental note to check around town the next time I went out.

I browsed the ads, looking for something that was not telemarketing or sales. Everyone appeared to be looking either for nurses or CNC machinists.

Then I saw the ad again.

"Wait staff needed for upscale bar. No experience necessary. Platinum, 3380 Blount St. No calls, inquire in person 10AM weekdays."

I sighed and tossed the paper aside. There was no harm in checking the place out; after all, it wasn't like I'd signed a contract, or even agreed to audition. I didn't even have to show up next week; it wasn't like he had my address or phone number, or even knew more than my first name, for that matter.

* * * * *

I showered and washed my hair, taking the time to dry and straighten it. I put on makeup, which felt strange; I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually worn anything more than lipstick and mascara. I spent a long time trying to find something to wear from my horribly underprivileged wardrobe; I finally settled on a pair of tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt. The only high-heeled shoes I owned were in my bedroom closet in Forks; tossed there after my high school graduation and not touched since. I settled for a pair of sandals with a slight heel.

At six o'clock I left my apartment, climbed into my truck and drove the ten minutes to the club. The parking lot was about half full, and I parked near the sidewalk, cutting the engine quickly. I waited until a group of businessmen passed by and entered the front doors. Locking the truck, I strode to the sidewalk and walked the few feet before ducking into the doorway.

The club looked so different, for a split second I thought I was in the wrong place. When I had showed up to interview with James, the bartender had been the only other person here. It had the same look that all bars do in the light of day; grimy and silent. I hadn't noticed the square stage with two poles and a narrow walkway that ran from the far side of the room into the center. Now the music played and a blonde girl with high-heeled Lucite shoes gyrated around one of the poles on the main stage.

I moved out of the doorway and towards the back of the club, watching her as she moved, undulating with her eyes half-closed. She wrapped her hands around the pole and slid down, all the way to the floor, bending herself nearly in half with the effort of her flexibility. She reached her left hand through her legs towards a man sitting right behind her at the edge of the stage, then grabbed the pole with her right hand and dropped her ass towards his face. He gasped in appreciation and held out a twenty while his friends hooted and clapped.

The girl spun around and landed on all fours in front of him and leaned backwards, throwing her head back, spreading her knees and offering her garter. He carefully pulled the lacy material away from her leg and inserted the bill slowly. She smiled at him and winked appreciatively, thrust herself towards him once before pulling her knees back together and standing as the song ended. There was applause throughout the room.

I let out a breath that I hadn't even known I'd been holding.

"Can I get you something, sweetie?" said a chipper voice in my ear. I turned to see a baby faced girl teetering on a pair of four inch heels balancing a tray in her left hand.

"Oh. Um. Well, I guess I'll have… uh… rum and coke?" It came out like a question.

Baby Face winked at me. "Comin' right up!" She teetered away.

I saw a single table near the mirrored back wall, and made my way to it, sitting down hastily. A minute later, Baby Face was on her way over with my drink. She set it down and I handed her some cash.

She smiled again and asked, "Enjoying the show?"

_How do I answer that without sounding like a total freak?_

"Um, yeah. That girl seemed very talented." _There. That was appropriate, right?_

Baby Face laughed. "You could say that. Rainn is extremely talented as separating men from their money."

I watched the girl named Rainn as she made her way gracefully through the maze of tables and chairs. The DJ introduced another girl and she took the stage as another song began.

"Can I get you anything else? Would you like me to send one of the girls over for some company?"

I blinked. "Um, no thanks." Then her question really sank in. "Oh! No! No no no… I'm not looking for that." I smiled in what I hoped was a convincing manner. Baby Face returned the smile.

"See, I talked to James earlier today? And I came to check out the club? 'Cause I'm thinking about working here?" _Dammit, why was everything I said coming out in question form?_

"Oh, OK. Well, just let me know if you need anything. My name is Kara, by the way." She smiled again before walking towards the bar.

I sat back in my chair and relaxed slightly. I hadn't realized that I'd tensed up until just then. While I'd been talking to Kara, another girl had come over to a group of three guys sitting about ten feet away. She talked with them, and when the next song started she began dancing for one of the men. He watched her for a moment, then turned to talk to his companions. The girl moved sinuously, placing her hand on the back of his chair with his knee between her spread legs, moving her hips back and forth. The man continued to talk to the other men at his table, and from the few words I heard over the beat of the music, it was obvious that he was discussing business. The song ended, he handed a twenty to the dancer, barely glancing up, and she walked away towards another group of men clustered near the bar.

_How can she do that? Dance like that for a man that isn't even paying her the slightest bit of attention?_

"Hi!" said a breathless voice next to me. I started at the sound, and turned to stare at the girl standing next to me. She was almost too beautiful for description, with waiflike features and a pixie haircut that made her look almost too young to be in a bar. She reached out her perfectly manicured fingers and grasped my hand. "I'm Amaryllis. I manage the talent here. Kara says that you might be interested in working here?" I just nodded in response, then remembered to smile.

"Why don't you come with me? Let's find a quieter place to talk." She turned and walked towards the bar. Her grace and litheness was so perfect, the pang of doubtful self-loathing I felt almost caused me to turn and run out the door. But I obediently got up and followed her deeper into the room.

* * * * *


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 3**

Amaryllis walked towards the end of the bar, nodding at a dark-skinned man sitting in a tall chair against the wall. She passed through a heavy curtain, which led into a short, dimly-lit hallway. She opened a door on the right and light flooded into the hall, causing me to squint slightly. She started down a flight of stairs, and I followed.

At the bottom of the stairs I turned to take in the room. Slate blue walls met thick, light-colored Berber carpet that stretched the length of the room. Amaryllis motioned to a couch and I walked towards it, sinking down into the comfortable white leather. Directly across from the couch, tucked underneath the stairs I had just walked down, was a stripper pole bolted into a raised wooden platform, with a wall of mirrors behind it. To the right was a wall-mounted sound system and flat screen TV. I looked down the length of the room and saw that the wall behind me was lined with beautiful black and white prints of nude females. I stood up to study them more closely. The photographs were exquisite, and it was obvious even to an art illiterate like me that the photographer who had taken these was supremely talented.

Amaryllis appeared from behind a cream colored door, carrying a stack of mail and a key ring. She smiled and walked towards me. "What do you think so far?" she asked.

"Wow. I can't even explain…"

She laughed. "Most girls are surprised when they come in for the first time. I guess they think that all clubs require you to get dressed in an oversize coat closet." She wrinkled her nose. "I insisted when I took this job that they remodel the girls' area. Would you like to see the rest of it?"

"There's more?"

She turned and walked farther into the room and passed through a doorway into another room beyond. I followed her and gasped. On the left was another wall of mirrors with a long, low vanity and off-white wicker stools. On the right was a wall of lockers, painted a complementary shade of blue. Amaryllis pointed to the lockers.

"This is where the girls keep their belongings while they are here. On the left is the makeup area, plenty of room and good lighting. There are outlets at each station for hair dryers and straight irons."

She kept walking. "This is the changing area. There are three showers, three stalls for changing, and the bathroom beyond. We also have laundry facilities, two washers and two dryers."

I struggled unsuccessfully to keep the amazement off of my face. She smiled and continued. "I figured that if we made it enjoyable for the girls to be here, then they would spend more time here and, ultimately, make more money. They make money, the bar makes money, and we stay in the black. Adding a few showers and the laundry room has paid for itself several times over already."

We walked back out towards the sitting area. She motioned to the couch, and we both sat. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, and turned. She opened the door of a small, well-stocked refrigerator hidden next to the couch. I accepted a Diet Coke and she opened a bottle of water.

"Do you have any questions yet?" she asked.

With all of the thoughts swirling through my mind, only one really stood out enough for me to form it into a coherent question.

"Is your name really Amaryllis?" I blurted.

She laughed, a sweet sound, like pealing bells.

"Of course not. What respectable woman under the age of fifty is named Amaryllis?" She took a drink of water and smiled at me.

"Amaryllis is my stage name. Whenever I do work in the talent industry, I use a stage name. I give every girl who works here a stage name, and that's her name when she's here. It's a safety mechanism more than anything; it's important that patrons don't know your real name, as it gives them information about you that you don't want them to have… but who wants to hear the DJ say, 'Next up on the Platinum stage, the hottest girl in the Midwest… Mary!'" She laughed again.

"What's your real name?" I asked hesitantly.

She looked at me, weighing her answer. "My real name is Alice."

_Alice. No _wonder_ she uses a stage name._

"I'm Bella," I said, a beat too late.

"I know. James told me that a girl named Bella had come in today. I wondered if we'd be seeing you again soon." She sipped her water and contemplated me. "I think you are… an Irina." She nodded.

'_Irina'? What kind of name is Irina?_

I cleared my throat. "Um, really?"

She nodded. "Your dark hair and pale skin are beautiful. You just… look like an Irina." The tone of her voice told me that the discussion was closed. I didn't argue.

"So… are you ready to hear the rules?" she asked. I nodded. She looked at me seriously.

"Use your stage name. It's for practical purposes as well as safety. You wouldn't want a patron approaching you in the grocery store, saying 'Hi, Bella!' and when you turn… he knows it's you, because you responded. Next thing you know, he's following you home… not a good scenario. If he calls out, 'Hi, Irina,' then you immediately know he's a patron and you can pretend like he's mistaken you for someone else. You'll find out most of the girls' real names eventually, but you must always refer to them by their stage names in the bar. No exceptions. Patrons might offer you money to tell them a girl's real name; do not do it. If we find out you have, you will be fired. We've had very few instances of stalking, but it does happen, and we take every precaution with the safety of our girls. It's another reason why we don't encourage girls to develop relationships with patrons outside of the bar.

"Never accept a drink from a patron. It takes about 2 seconds for someone to slip something into your drink on the walk back from the bar. Always order from one of the bartenders or waitresses. Always order a Diet Coke or water with lemon, never alcohol. If your patron complains, just tell him, "Hey, I need to watch my figure so you keep tipping." Wink, smile, joke, whatever you need to do; don't let him guilt you into having a drink. Most girls think a couple of shots will help them loosen up before they get on stage, but if you need some liquid courage to get up there, then you aren't cut out for this business. Alcohol makes you more likely to fall and injure yourself. Besides, a patron who sees that you're drinking might try to take liberties. And if you relax your inhibitions, you might just let him. There's no rule against drinking on the job, and some of the girls do it, but it's never a good idea. James watches who does and who doesn't, believe me. You could get yourself arrested, or get the bar shut down, and a lot of people will be out of work because you decided to let an undercover cop feel you up for an extra twenty. No men in the dressing area, not James, not the security guys. There is a panic button mounted underneath the vanity and one next to the light switch in the shower area. We haven't needed them yet."

Alice breathed. I blinked. It was a lot of information to take in. I laughed a little and said, "Wow. And to think that I was only looking for a job as a waitress."

Alice surprised me by laughing aloud. "Let me guess… you saw the ad in the paper?" She shook her head. "James gives everyone the newspaper ad story. He runs that ad all of the time, always for waitresses, never for dancers. Most girls that come in here are interested in dancing but don't really have enough courage to start doing it right away. They'd rather check it out as a waitress first, then get into the dancing. Just about every single one of the girls here now answered that exact same ad."

"So, what do you—I mean, you don't dance…" I trailed off, unsure how to finish my sentence.

"I manage the dancers, run interference for James; he hates dealing with the 'girl' aspect of the business. Mostly he shakes hands, buys patrons dances, checks the books, makes sure that the bar is running right and no one is stealing from him. The owners hold him accountable, and it's his neck on the line. He takes the business seriously."

"I thought James was the owner."

She shook her head. "No, he's the business manager. The property is owned by a real estate investment firm. I guess they own quite a bit of property in the area." She shrugged.

She looked at me brightly. "Now! What are we going to do to get you ready to go out on that stage?"

I grimaced. "I don't have any clothes at all. These shoes" I showed her my sandals, "are the only heeled shoes I own."

Her pixie face grimaced in response. "Those are fairly awful. But you've come to the right place!" She glided to a door next to her office and pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocking and opening it in one swift movement. Inside a light clicked on, and I could see racks of what looked like colored tissue. I moved closer to inspect the contents, and realized that what I thought was tissue were actually bras, panties, thongs, garters, and other items that I couldn't even name. Alice was digging around in the bottom of the closet, and before I could see what she was looking for, she stood up, holding out a pair of black high-heeled boots.

"You're a seven, right?" she asked.

I looked back, surprised. "Yeah… um, how did you know?"

She smiled and laughed. "It's my job to know. I started out working for a department store in L.A., working in the lingerie department. Mostly I sold foundation pieces to little old ladies, but one day a woman asked me if I could locate something a little risqué to surprise her husband on their next cruise to St. Bart's. She didn't want to go to some tacky stripper store." She laughed at the memory. "I told her that if we didn't carry what she wanted, I would find something and bring it to her home for a fitting. She was elated by the idea. I bought several outfits in her size, along with all of the… 'accessories.'" She giggled again. "I showed up to her house and did a private fitting. She was thrilled, and didn't even bat an eyelash at the price I charged her. Soon her friends started calling, asking for the same, and a business was born." She had been looking through the racks, but found what she wanted and turned to hand me the hanger.

"My sales were higher than everyone on my floor, and my bosses started to take notice. My initial client called my boss to ask if she could hire me as a personal shopper, and pretty soon I was doing even better than before. I got to spend other people's money and dress them up every day. What's better than that?" She tossed a few more things on the couch next to me, then rummaged in a large train case on the floor of the closet.

"I also costumed the talent at a dance club in L.A. One night, one of the girls asked if she could buy her outfit. She said she was an exotic dancer and didn't have any clothes that fit as well as the ones I gave her." Alice smiled at the memory. "I gave her a discount, and my card, and told her to give me a call if she needed anything else. Pretty soon, I was fitting many of the girls – and some of the guys – that worked the clubs in L.A. I still do private fittings for high-end clients, and my 'day job' is as a clothing buyer for an upscale department store." She handed me a few small tubes to hold while she zipped up the train case.

"So," I asked, not sure how to proceed. "What are you doing… here?"

She smiled brightly at me. "I manage the girls as a favor to the owner. I get paid, plus I make money on whatever clothing I sell to the girls. There's something about dressing other people that satisfies me in a way I can't accurately explain." She winked and took the tubes I had been holding.

She held up a few outfits and said, "OK. Let's see how these look on you."

She herded me back into the changing area and hung up the outfits on a hook in front of a bank of full-length, angled mirrors. I stood with my back to the mirrors while she appraised me. "34C, six petite…" she picked through the selections and handed something black to me. "Here. Try this one first."

I automatically looked around for a changing room, and she laughed. "You need to get used to being half-naked in front of other people if you're going to do this job. Now strip!" With a flush coloring my cheeks, I obeyed and stood, again, with my back to the mirrors.

"Turn around." I turned, and looked at both of our reflections. She smiled at me again. "Bella, you are a very pretty girl. Don't you believe that?" I looked everywhere but at myself, but she wouldn't let me. "No. Really. Look at yourself."

I appraised my body. Long dark hair, pale skin, five foot five, flat feet. Alice shook her head. "You aren't seeing yourself. You're _looking_ but you aren't really _seeing._" She put her hands on my shoulders, and the intensity in her eyes made me breathe a little faster.

I looked carefully, starting with my hair. I hadn't cut it since I was a freshman in high school and it hung below my shoulder blades. Normally there were waves, but since I'd straightened it, it was shiny and pretty. I pushed it back over my shoulder. My eyes were dark brown, darker than Renee's. Sometimes they appeared to have golden flecks in the sunlight, but they were mostly a deep, chocolate color. The contrast between my eyes and pale skin was quite stark. I stayed out of the sun, since I tended to burn, and tended to be pale even in the middle of summer. I wasn't fat, and the yoga class I had been taking in Port Angeles had helped me regain some of the flexibility I'd lost when I quit ballet years ago. My breasts were decently sized; not so big that they were uncomfortable, not so small that I was embarrassed. My legs seemed fine, and my feet…

I looked at Alice, still standing behind me. "OK?" I said, a question.

"Did you notice?"

"What?"

"When you really started seeing yourself, you straightened your back. You also turned your hips like this – " she demonstrated for me. "That creates a slimmer line, makes your hips look smaller. It's instinctive." She nodded, satisfied.

She held up the black thing again. "Let's see how it looks."

* * * * *

A half hour later, I had tried on four different outfits, settled on three that I liked, and one that I felt comfortable enough to walk around in. The black bustier covered everything but gave me phenomenal cleavage, and the bottoms didn't make me feel like my ass was hanging out. The outfit looked like an updated version of the bunny costume that the waitresses at the Playboy club used to wear. I walked from the changing area to the stripper pole and back again, surprised that I hadn't fallen in the knee-high black boots.

"Those have a very sturdy heel, great for beginners. You balance the weight across the entire foot." She gathered the rest of the outfits up to put away, then spent a few minutes explaining the various tubes that she'd taken from the case. Body makeup (to cover my various scars), body glitter (to make me shimmery underneath the lights). She said that she'd do my makeup another time for me if I wanted to, and I agreed.

As I considered myself in the mirror, I remembered that there was a cost. "How much for the outfit?" I asked, in what I hoped was a nonchalant tone. She smiled.

"No charge for this one. Go home, try it out, see how it feels, and when you come back next week, we'll work on your next outfit." She hugged me then. "You really look fantastic. If you can keep up your self-confidence, you will do great!"

I heard the door at the top of the steps open, and someone coming down the stairs.

"Amaryllis?" came a loud voice.

"Right here."

The beautiful blonde who had been on stage when I first got here was standing before me. She was even more glorious under the halogen lights, beautiful blonde hair and perfect skin… I immediately felt a pang of jealousy and shrank slightly in her presence.

She held up a shoe. "These damn things broke again," she complained, waving around one of the Lucite heels. " Left shoe strap, same place as last time. This has to be a manufacturing defect." She dropped the shoes and fell onto the couch.

"Rainn" Alice said. The girl looked up. "This is Irina."

Rainn appraised me. "Nice to meet you" she said, not smiling.

I nodded in return, not trusting myself to respond properly.

"Irina might be working with us sometime soon." Alice smiled.

Rainn raised an eyebrow and then shrugged her shoulders. She reached down, picked up the shoes and handed them to Alice. "Is there anything you can do with these? I still have half my shift left." She picked at her nails while Alice walked towards the closet.

I stood uncomfortably in my new outfit, not sure where to look or what to do with my hands. I folded my arms in front of my chest and waited for Alice. Rainn looked up at me but said nothing. I continued to stand there, waiting.

Alice came back and handed Rainn a new pair of shoes. "Loaners, only. I want them back at the end of your shift." She turned to me. "Would you like to go upstairs?"

I stared at her, incredulous. "Like this? I… I don't think I'm ready for that."

She smiled at me. "You look fantastic. Doesn't she, Rainn?" The blond looked up, unimpressed, then went back to putting on her heels. Alice made a tsking sound, then said, "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. I'll introduce you to some of the other girls and the bartender, and you can just walk around, getting comfortable. You don't have to dance, nothing at all if you don't want to. Just watch the other girls, and you'll get a feel for what you will be doing." She looked at me encouragingly.

Rainn smiled sweetly and said, "Don't worry, Irina. They're men. They slobber after anything remotely resembling a female." She smirked. Alice gave her a dark look.

My heart racing, I looked back and forth between Rainn and Alice.

I nodded. "OK. Let's do it."

* * * * *

A/N Another long chapter, but the background is necessary to understanding who the characters are and how they interact with Bella. Edward will be introduced soon, I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 4**

We walked upstairs, and I was surprised to find that I still felt comfortable wearing the boots. I didn't know whether or not I could actually dance in them… the thought sent little shivers of fear down my spine, but I pushed them away. We walked through the curtain into the main club area, and it took all of the mental fortitude within me to refrain from crossing my arms over my chest.

I followed Alice to the bar, where she gestured to a stool. I sat quickly, looking around to see if anyone was watching. She sat next to me and turned to the bartender.

"Tanya, this is Irina, a new girl." She smiled at Tanya. Tanya smiled back, and nodded politely at me. "Can I get you anything, Irina?"

I almost laughed aloud, but remembered how serious Alice had been about the name thing.

"Um, a Diet Coke with lemon?" I asked. She smiled approvingly and I breathed a sigh of relief. Alice winked at me.

Once my hands were occupied with my drink, I turned back to survey the room. Alice pointed out various girls and told me their names, their general shifts, and some basic information about the bar. She pointed out regular clients and told me to watch out for bachelor parties and Marines. I laughed, but she was serious.

"Bachelor parties that come to exotic dance clubs usually do so because their strippers bailed on them. They tend to be very intoxicated and think if they throw around a few fifties that they'll get more of a show than what we provide here." She sniffed. "I still don't know what it is with the Marines. There's just something about them…" she shook her head and turned to point out the DJ booth.

"That's Eric up there. He's a really nice guy, does an excellent job. We're lucky he's been with us as long as he has. If you tip him on top of the nightly fifteen, or send a drink over every once in a while, he'll make sure that you're in the prime rotation."

A song ended, and I watched as the girl Alice had called Ambre stooped to pick up her tips off of the stage before walking to a group of men sitting at the other end of the bar. The DJ introduced a new girl on stage, and a dark alternative rock song that had been popular at my old bar in Port Angeles started to play.

"Betheny is one of our more… theatrical girls." Alice said, sighing. "She likes to perform to nontraditional songs. We had to draw the line when she wanted to perform to a techno version of _Carmina Burana._" She shook her head.

That made me think of a question. "So, what kind of music should I use?"

"Well, pick a style of music you like. Some of the girls are really into hip hop, and some of the popular R&B songs on the radio are actually more appropriate for strip clubs than they are for singing in public. It really depends on your preference. Go through your iPod and see if you have anything that makes you want to take your clothes off." She laughed. "I'll introduce you to Eric, and we can see if he has any suggestions."

I continued sipping on my Diet Coke, and scanning the room. I caught the eyes of a man standing about three seats down, and he smiled. I looked away quickly, but Alice had already noticed. "Come with me," she ordered, and jumped up agilely, taking me by the hand.

"Gentlemen!" she said, and smiled broadly at them. "This is Irina, one of our newest girls." I flushed as the men appraised me, my heart racing.

"Hello, Irina" the seated man said. He held out his hand and I shook it quickly. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I'm the night janitor," I blurted. _The mental filter was definitely not engaged right now. _The men laughed. I blushed and looked at Alice. She laughed and turned to the man I'd shaken hands with. "She's got such a great sense of humor."

He nodded in agreement. "I wish that the janitor at my job looked like you… I think I'd probably stay at work a lot longer." He smiled at me again, and I felt a little less uncomfortable.

"How about a dance?"

I froze.

Alice took me by the hand again. "I think Ambre is available for a dance," she caught Ambre's eye and waved her over. "Irina will be here next week, make sure that you come in and say hello!" She led me away, back to our stools. When she sat down next to me, she looked like a giddy freshman that had just been asked out by a senior. "You are going to be great at this!" she gushed.

I took a deep breath. I didn't know if I would be _great_ at it, but I was starting to think that I could do it. Not right this minute… but maybe by next week, if I could practice.

* * * * *

The next morning I woke up around ten, mind racing as soon as I opened my eyes. I'd stayed at the club until almost midnight, meeting Eric the DJ and a few of the other girls. I spent a few minutes talking with Eric, who turned out to be a really nice guy. He gave me an extra copy of a CD that he'd burned, and offered me some pointers on choosing songs.

I got up, throwing on an old t-shirt and shorts before rummaging around in my duffel for the CD. I brewed some coffee while waiting for my laptop to boot up, and looked at the track listing on the back. A few of the song names sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure of the artists. I smiled when I saw the name he'd scrawled on the jewel case: "Strip Tracks."

I imported the tracks into iTunes and took a shower while they synced with my iPod. When I finished dressing, I put in my ear buds and gathered up my dirty clothes for a trip to the basement laundry.

The first song seemed familiar:

_Let me see you stripped down to the bone_

_Let me hear you speaking just for me_

_Let me see you stripped down to the bone_

_Let me hear you crying just for me_

I smiled when I placed it: a Depeche Mode song I'd listened to before. I flipped over the CD case and read the band name; Shiny Toy Guns. I closed my eyes, feeling the movement of the song and allowing my body to sway slowly with the beat. Surprisingly, I found that I liked this version better than the original.

Humming along to the melody, I made my way to the basement and put a load of whites into the ancient top-loading washer. Halfway back up the stairs, I stopped, and an idea struck me like lightning. I turned and ran back down.

Most basements have steel pillars or columns in order to support the floors above. I saw several of these load-bearing pillars running in straight line through the side opposite the laundry area.

Poles. For practice.

Without another thought, I raced up the stairs to my apartment. I grabbed my duffel and was back in the basement before the wash cycle even started. After catching my breath, I pulled on the newly-acquired black boots and zipped them up. I stood, looking around, and saw that one of the poles was tucked away towards the back of the basement, behind a massive furnace. There was a large pane of glass, probably from a storm door, leaning against the wall. With the light filtering through the basement windows, I could see my reflection fairly clearly.

I skipped to the next track, and was surprised to hear one of my favorite dance songs; "Battle Flag" by the Lo Fidelity All-Stars. I'd liked the song before the Coyote Ugly fad had spread through bars like wildfire, but I'd never considered it as a song to perform to. I restarted the song and closed my eyes, trying to decide if this song made me want to take my clothes off.

I grabbed the pole with both hands and started moving my hips to the beat, trying to pop them the way the girls at the club had. I turned to survey my reflection in the mirror of the glass and laughed at myself. _What the hell was I doing? I had no business even _trying_ to be sexy._

I shook my head, determined to do this. I tried again, popping my hips a little harder, and was surprised that it looked better this time. Again… again… that looked more like the way Ambre had done it. I walked around the pole, stopped, and threw my hair in a circle, watching as it fanned over my head and fell in front of my face. I moved my waist in a circle, but it didn't look quite right. I tried again a few times, but couldn't get it; I made a mental note to ask Alice to help me with that one.

I turned and grabbed the pole again, throwing my leg up as high as I could, then threw my head back, tossing my hair again. _Wow. That actually looked _good_!_

I let go of the pole and put my hands on my hips, spreading my legs and pushing out my chest. I leaned back against the pole and slid down, grabbing my ankles and slowly pulling myself back up, running my hands over the boots, my knees, my thighs, my chest. A thrill went through me as I realized that not only did I look good, I _felt _good. I remembered what Alice had said about angling your body so your hips look smaller; I turned and checked my reflection, and was surprised to see that even in my old shorts, my legs looked really good with the high-heeled boots on. _No wonder so many women wear heels all of the time. It does wonders for my legs._

The next track came on, and I didn't recognize it. I listened for a few seconds, then skipped ahead. The next two tracks were remixes of a few hard rock songs, and I wasn't really in the mood for them. The next few I didn't recognize, but listened to them anyway. I closed my eyes and tossed my hair again, grabbed for the pole and attempted to execute my first turn.

I made it about halfway around before I realized that I didn't have enough strength in my arms; I opened my eyes and was shocked nearly out of my skin to see a man standing in the doorway of the basement. I pulled my ear buds out of my ears and stammered a hello.

The man looked to be in his fifties, wearing a maintenance suit and carrying a toolbox. He didn't say anything at first, then cleared his throat and said, "I just need to take a look at the furnace there." He gestured with his free hand.

"Sure!" I jumped out of the way, grabbing at my duffel and my empty laundry basket. "I was just… exercising." _Sure, dumbass. He is going to buy that one._

He shrugged, but didn't look at me again as he made his way towards the furnace. I gave him a wide berth as I walked into the laundry area again, mortified and wishing that the basement floor would open up and swallow me whole. I heard him set down his toolbox, and I pulled off the boots as quickly as I could, stuffing them into my duffle. I changed the laundry before shoving the bag into the laundry basket and tried to walk noiselessly towards the exit. He cleared his throat and called, "Miss?"

I froze. "Yes?"

It was quiet for a second. Then, he said, "That exercising… not too shabby." His toolbox banged again.

Without a word I fled up the stairs.

* * * * *

A/N: "Stripped" was written by Depeche Mode, and covered by Shiny Toy Guns. Go find it on iTunes, it's really a great song, one I've used on my playlist for this fanfic. "Battle Flag" by the Lo Fidelity All-Stars is off of the Coyote Ugly soundtrack.

Your reviews are great, thanks for the plot suggestions and such. Do you have a song that you think would be a good song for stripping or an exotic dance routine? Post it in your review… you never know if it Bella might like it...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 5**

The rest of the week passed slowly, and soon it was Monday. I'd not run into the maintenance guy again, and I'd snuck down to the basement several times to practice on the pole. I'd taken precautions, closing the door at the top of the stairs so that I would hear if someone was coming down to do laundry. No one had.

I awoke early with a nervous flutter in my stomach. I had implemented a new routine of thirty minutes of stretching and yoga, and my thigh muscles complained. Even though I moved slowly and carefully, I was ready by nine and on the way to the club by nine-thirty. I was there so early, the fenced-in parking lot wasn't yet unlocked, so I drove a few blocks east. I passed a small café-style restaurant with a sandwich-style "We have WiFi!" sign on the sidewalk, and made a mental note to bring my laptop next time. I turned north at the next intersection, passing a gas station, strip mall, and a used bookstore before turning west and heading back towards the club. By this time, the parking lot was opened and there were two cars parked in the lot. I parked near the side door this time and walked inside.

James was sitting at the bar with a large takeout coffee and a ledger book sitting in front of him. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. "Irina! So good to see you. Please, have a seat." I sat next to him, wondering frantically where Alice was.

He finished tabulating some numbers, then sat back and picked up his coffee. "You've decided to audition for us, then?" he asked, taking a sip.

I sat back into the stool. "Um, yeah. I thought I'd give it a shot." I smiled brightly.

"All right, then, do you have a CD?" He pushed away from the bar.

I felt my heart jump into my throat. "Is Alice—I mean, Amaryllis, here?" I stammered, remembering to use the stage name. _Why can't I think of her as anyone but Alice?_

He shook his head. "She'll be in later this afternoon." He eyed me for a second. "I need to go make a call in my office. Why don't you go acclimate yourself with the stage? Tanya will help you with the music." He motioned towards the bartender I'd met last week.

I nodded, suddenly cold. _Come on! You've been practicing all week for this. You can do it!_ I pictured my mental cheerleader, suddenly dropping her pompoms and ripping off her sweater to reveal a dominatrix costume and whip. Inwardly I laughed maniacally.

Tanya walked towards me, wiping her hands on a bar towel.

"I'm Bell—um, Irina, the new girl?" I said, a question. "James said you could help me with the music?" I handed her the CD.

She flipped it over and asked, "Which track?"

"Track 4."

She nodded and walked towards the register. Above it was a sound system similar to the one in the dressing area downstairs. She popped in the CD and turned to me. "Ready when you are."

I nodded and took a deep breath, then realized in a moment of panic that I hadn't worn my outfit.

"Is everything OK?" she asked.

"Um… my clothes…" I faltered.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Just put on your heels, he can tell if you'll do OK whether you're in jeans or nothing at all." She smirked, looking at me expectantly.

I sat down and pulled on the boots, trying to calm myself down. I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked towards the stage.

I climbed the two steps, and was surprised to see that the stage looked much narrower than it did from the floor. I walked down to the end, then back to the pole, gauging the amount of space I would have, praying that I wouldn't fall off and kill myself, either by breaking my neck or from embarrassment. I turned to face Tanya and nodded. She hit a button and "Stripped" started to play.

I closed my eyes, leaned back against the pole, and let my head fall backwards. I could feel my hair sliding over my shoulders and rolled my head, feeling the movement of the air across my skin. I ran my hands through my hair, grabbing and tugging backwards, pushing my hips forward. I grabbed the pole, working myself in a circle, wrapping my leg around it, turning quickly and coming back to my feet. I swayed as I felt the beat of the music in my chest, twisting and moving against it, running my hands up and down the pole as I turned, bending myself down so far forward that my hair brushed the floor. I flipped up quickly, kicking my leg out and around, turning to face the pole again. I stopped, spreading my legs and holding the pole for support. I bent down slowly, keeping my legs straight and my knees locked, like I'd seen Rainn do that first night. I reached back and ran my hand up my leg, then my thigh, twisting my hips. I stood upright quickly, flipping my hair, and circled the pole once more, sliding down slowly into a split as the song ended.

Breathing heavily, I pulled myself up and walked towards the bar where Tanya was taking my CD out of the player. She nodded at me. "Not bad. I think he's impressed."

I looked towards the back wall and saw James standing in a shadow, watching me. I was surprised that he'd come back from his office; I'd been so involved in the music, I'd forgotten that I was supposed to be performing for anyone. I felt the color rise in my cheeks.

Tanya set a Diet Coke in front of me, and I thanked her, taking a seat at the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something along the back wall – someone moving towards the back door – then James was walking towards me. He took a seat next to me, saying nothing. He turned.

"Can you start tonight?"

I smiled, and my recently calmed heart began racing again. I hadn't realized that I'd actually been hoping he'd be impressed. The adrenaline in my system surprised me, and I saw my hand shake a little as I lifted my drink to my lips.

When I trusted my voice, I spoke. "I thought you said no one would be here this early?" I hadn't really been paying attention to the person I assumed was talking to James, but it was easier to talk about something else first.

He looked puzzled for a brief second, and then realization cleared his face. "Just one of my partners. We had some business to discuss. Most businesspeople keep daytime hours, no?" He smiled. "You still haven't answered my question; can you start tonight?"

I shrugged in what I hoped was a display of indifference. "Sure. What time?"

"How about 7? You can stay until midnight, or work until 2 when we close, whichever you prefer."

I nodded and concentrated on not spilling my drink.

* * * * *

I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself from the evening ahead of me. I gave up and got myself ready around four, figuring I'd stop at the cafe I'd seen earlier and have a sandwich and check my e-mail before going to the club.

I found a parking spot almost in front of the cafe. It was before the dinner rush, and I was able to find a table in near the window. I placed my order at the counter and booted up my laptop, breathing with a sigh of relief when the wireless connection worked and I was able to log on to my e-mail.

I spent 15 minutes cleaning out the junk mail before finding a message from Renee. She was worried that she hadn't heard from me and asked if I could call her to let me know what was going on. I replied immediately, telling her that I had just now gotten Internet access. I told her I was working as a waitress in a bar. I added that there was a well-lit parking lot and security guards, hoping that would alleviate her fears. I sat for a moment, trying to decide if I was ready to explain why I'd left.

Now was not the time. I closed with an "I love you, please let Dad know I'm OK." Hopefully that would keep them both satisfied for at least a little while.

I chewed my sandwich and scrolled through iTunes, looking through my songs to see if there was anything that, in the words of Alice, 'made me want to take my clothes off.' I found a few things that might work. I created a new play list with the new files and added the tracks from Eric's CD. I titled it "Stripping" in a fit of humor.

I synced my new play list to my iPod and put in my ear buds, trying to prepare myself for the night ahead of me. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers to the beat, trying to think of what moves would be appropriate for the song.

"Excuse me." I snapped my eyes open with a start, ripping at my ear buds, looking around.

A man seated at the table next to mine smiled. He looked approximately my age, perhaps a few years older, and beautiful; easily the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I stared at him, unsure if he had actually been speaking to me. "I-I'm sorry?" I stammered.

His smile widened, and I gasped. His gorgeous features were somehow made more gorgeous by his perfect smile. I blinked.

"Are you having any problems with your wireless connection? I can't seem to get a signal."

His voice was velvet, almost as beautiful as his face. I stared at him idiotically. My brain just wouldn't make the connection that this man was actually talking to me.

He leaned closer, and I caught a whiff of musky cologne. I breathed deeply, trying unsuccessfully to clear my head.

"May I?" He motioned to the other side of my table, and when my synapses made the connection that he was asking to sit with me, I nodded, sliding my laptop to the side and moving my empty tray to the table he'd just vacated.

He sat down across from me, and I smelled the musk of his cologne again.

"Thank you for allowing me to impose." He checked his laptop quickly and looked back at me. "There must be a dead spot right there, I'm able to connect just fine now." He smiled.

I smiled back, knowing that I was staring, but helpless to do anything else. I didn't think I could tear my eyes away from his face if my hair was on fire.

He had said something I'd missed. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you new to the area? I don't think I've seen you in this cafe before."

"Oh. Yes. Well, I just moved here recently. I found this cafe earlier today, and it's the only place I've found that has wireless, so…" I trailed off, worried that if I didn't stop talking I wouldn't be able to.

"It's a nice town. I have to say, the area has really grown on me. I only intended to move here temporarily, and that was five years ago." He smiled his devastating smile and sipped his coffee.

I watched him as he talked, noticed his perfect clothes, his hands as he gestured or ran them through his thick hair. I watched his mouth, his tongue…

My heart raced. It took every ounce of control within me to keep from leaning forward and grabbing his shoulders just to pull him closer and breathe in his scent. I had a vision of burying my face in his chest, and shook my head to bring myself back to the present.

He said something that I'd missed again. "I –I missed…"

He laughed, and I felt myself melting at the sound.

"The library has WiFi. It's only about five blocks away. It's one of the older library branches in the county system, but they've been updating their facilities."

I nodded, unsure if I could trust my voice to respond.

"Well." He checked his watch, and my heart fell. "I must be going, but it was very nice meeting you – "

"Bella."

He smiled and offered me his hand.

"Edward. Edward Cullen."

* * * * *

A/N: SQUEE! Bella has met Edward! I didn't want to make you wait any longer for the introduction. You've been so patient… and I am dying to write the next chapter, so I'll shut up now…

I am loving your stripper song suggestions. I have spent more time on iTunes checking out songs than I should. Keep them coming.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Special shout out to AzureEyedI for helping me hammer out plot, for sock yarn, and for just being awesome. Go check out her fanfic, "The Fixer."**

**Chapter 6**

I sat in my truck, mind whirling. I had just met the most amazing, gorgeous man. Breathtakingly beautiful. I closed my eyes and leaned over the steering wheel.

_Edward Cullen._

I shivered slightly as I remembered the feel of his hand in mine, the tiny electric sparks that made me gasp, the chill on the back of my neck as I felt an urge to pull him close to me.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, started my truck, and drove to the club.

* * * * *

As soon as I walked into the changing area, the butterflies started. The door to Alice's office was open, and I knocked on the doorframe. She looked up from her desk.

"Bella!" She walked around the desk and hugged me effusively. I was a bit startled by the warm reception. "James told me that you'd stopped today and that your audition was fantastic!" She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, excitement lighting her eyes.

"I have something for you, wait here." She was out of the office in a flash, and I stood, not sure what to do. I looked around her office, which was about one-third of the size of the dressing area outside. Classical music played over an invisible speaker, clear enough to be heard over the beat of the music upstairs. A pretty shade of olive covered the walls, with trim painted the same creamy white as the ceiling. Black and white matted prints adorned the walls, but instead of female nudes, these were photographs taken in nature; a maple leaf against a dark colored rock; blades of grass bent with dew; a bird's nest with three marble-sized eggs nestled together. I was astounded; each photo was a close up and contained intricate detail. The phone on the desk rang, and I turned.

There was a stack of manila folders on her desk, and I noticed an invoice stapled to the top folder. I glanced at it, and my heart skipped a beat.

_The Cullen Group_

_Real Estate Management Corp._

_Cullen? Could she be related to Edward Cullen? He didn't mention anything about a wife, but we didn't exactly bare our souls in our five-minute conversation. Sister? Sister-in-law? Cousin? Please God, let it be cousin. Or sister._ I was not exactly the praying type, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

That exact second, Alice whisked back into the office with a box.

"Open it!" she smiled enthusiastically as she reached for the phone.

I've never been very good at receiving gifts; I have a tendency to roll my eyes and grimace when I'm expected to open something wrapped in shiny paper. But Alice's enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself smiling as she handed it to me. I sat down in one of her chairs and tore at the paper.

Inside was a pair of black open-toed shoes with four-inch heels. I gasped.

"Alice! I can't wear these!"

She covered the mouthpiece. "Nonsense. They'll look fantastic on you."

I waited for her to finish the call, then reasserted myself. "No. I mean, I _can't_ wear them. These boots took a week of getting used to, and they don't have nearly the heel of these shoes. I don't think I can physically wear them without falling down and breaking my neck." I eyed the shoes warily.

She waved off my protest and told me to go change and try out the shoes.

I walked towards the lockers, stuffing my duffel inside. I murmured hellos to the girls sitting at the makeup vanity, and another checking out her reflection in the three-way mirror. I made a mental note to ask Alice for some advice on makeup.

Five minutes later I was walking unsteadily into the sitting area in my black outfit and the new heels. Alice nodded approvingly.

"You'll need to practice with those before you try to work in them. The fit is good, and it looks like your weight is well-balanced. You shouldn't even need inserts, they're that well made." She smiled with pride.

"Alice, I've been meaning to ask you… I think I need a little help with my makeup."

She grimaced at me. "You need more than a little help. Go get your bag." She turned and led the way to the now-empty vanity.

"First things first: Always wear a face lotion that protects from UV rays. Those are UV lights upstairs, and you wouldn't believe the damage that they can do to your face." After explaining the differences between foundation and body makeup, and offering some advice on how to properly highlight my features in the darker lighting, she started to work.

With my eyes closed, it seemed easier to ask.

"Um, Alice?"

"Mmmhhmmm?"

"Do you know an Edward Cullen?"

The makeup sponge didn't stop.

"Yes. He's my brother. Why do you ask?"

I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The relieved burst of adrenaline that shot through my system made my hands shake slightly.

"No reason. I just happened to see the name Cullen on a paper in your office, and I met an Edward Cullen today" I answered honestly.

The sponge stopped this time. I peeked through my eyelids at her.

"Where did you meet him?"

"The coffee shop with WiFi a few blocks away. I don't remember the name of it. He was having problems with his connection… he sat at my table and we just chatted for a few minutes." _Why did I feel like I needed to explain all of this? Shut UP, Bella!_

The sponge starting sponging again.

She didn't say anything, and I although I had about fifty questions I wanted to ask, I didn't say anything either.

"Open your eyes," she commanded.

She showed me a brown pencil and demonstrated how to line my eyes with it.

After a minute, she stepped backwards and I heard her take a deep breath.

"Edward and I are involved in several business ventures, and we work together frequently on various projects. He has an unbelievable mind for business and an extraordinarily charismatic personality." I felt a brush sweep over my eyelids.

"With such driven people, business can often take over their lives, leaving time for nothing – and no one – else. His work ethic has cost him several relationships." She spoke this with an edge of gentle warning.

I laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I really only wanted to know if he was gay, since I don't think I've ever seen a straight man so well-dressed." I felt a pang of something I couldn't put my finger on.

Alice laughed, genuinely pleased. "Of course he looks good – I am his personal shopper!"

"Do you have a card? 'Cause I saw a few guys in here the other night that could really use some personal shopping advice."

She groaned. "I swear, if I see another guy wander in here in gym shorts and flip-flops, I'm going to set his hair on fire."

"And what is with the sweat pants?" I asked. "Who wears sweat pants outside of the gym anymore?" I shook my head.

She looked at me with one eyebrow raised slyly. "I think that's what they refer to as 'freedom of movement.'" She waited.

I looked at her reflection in the mirror blankly. "I don't understand."

She raised the other eyebrow. "Sweatpants let a man have a little more freedom when his – how shall I say this? – when his _lieutenant is saluting_."

"Oh." My eyes opened wide.

Alice stood straight behind me, bringing the side of her right hand to her forehead.

"Ten-HUT!" she cried.

We both dissolved into laughter, and I vaguely wondered if she would be upset that the tears in my eyes were going to ruin my freshly-applied makeup.

* * * * *

Alice spent another twenty minutes fixing my makeup, and I put the finishing touches on my own hair. Alice nodded, and I assumed that meant I had passed inspection. On the way upstairs, she turned to me.

"Make sure to let Eric know you're here so that he can put you into the rotation."

At the DJ booth, Eric asked how I liked the CD. I was honest, telling him that I wasn't big on the hard rock songs, but how much I enjoyed "Stripped." He beamed when I told him that was the one I wanted to do as my first song. He made a note and promised I'd be up soon.

"Not _too_ soon." I laughed nervously.

I walked straight to the bar, waved down Tanya and ordered a Diet Coke with lemon. I walked around the club a few times, concentrating on making eye contact and smiling at patrons. I stopped a few times to say hello to the various girls and waitresses. After four of these circuits, I sat at the bar and surveyed my surroundings.

Eric had turned up the music slightly, and it seemed crowded for a Monday night. _What do I know about what days are busier than others at strip clubs?_

Alice materialized beside me. "You'll be on soon," she said. "You'll be great!" She squeezed my shoulder and flitted off to talk to someone.

There was a round of polite applause and some whistling as Ambre finished her song onstage, and I heard Eric's voice boom over the speaker.

"Next up, making her debut on the Platinum stage…"

My heart stopped beating.

"Irina!"

The sudden pounding in my ears was so loud I expected to look down and see my heart beating out of my chest like a cartoon mouse. I stood up and walked unsteadily to the stage steps, checking to make sure that everything was covered that should be, arranging my garter, tugging at my boots.

I climbed the steps and walked the length of the stage. As I heard the first few notes of my song start, the familiarity calmed me slightly. I closed my eyes and felt the music as I began to sway.

Behind my eyelids was the face of Edward Cullen. I felt myself react to the sudden jolt of desire that coursed through me at the remembrance of the way his hand felt in mine. My hands ran over my body lightly, and then I grasped the pole, pressing my body up against it. I pictured him seated in front of me, scouring my body with his gorgeous topaz eyes, licking his lips as I dropped to my knees before him, throwing my head back and pushing my body towards him, arching my back in offering...

The last few notes of the song rang out, and my eyes snapped open when I heard the applause. I looked down in front of me to see a small group of men standing near the edge of the stage, clapping. A few dropped bills onto the stage, and others waited in line to add them to my garter. I smiled and thanked them individually, feeling giddy as I walked off the stage towards Alice.

Alice fairly danced in place, eyes bright, huge smile across her face. She hugged me like a stage mother and told me how well I had done at least three times in as many seconds. Several of the other dancers offered their compliments, and I blushed each time. I was surprised to see how many pairs of male eyes were trained on me, and I had to keep myself from bursting into nervous laughter. I wondered absently how much money was in my garter, and resisted the impulse to pull it out and count it; something in the back of my mind told me it was probably not the best idea.

"Very nice job, Irina." James picked up the two drinks Tanya had placed on the bar in front of him and handed them to me. "Follow me."

I trailed behind him as he wound his way between the tables, nodding and waving at various men, patting a shoulder here and there, reminding another of an upcoming poker game. He stopped at a table with several men and I stood behind him while he shook their hands. _What's with the waitress routine?_ I scanned around for Alice, but she was engaged in conversation with a man seated next to her at the bar.

"—our newest addition, Irina," James was saying, and then he stepped aside and smiled at me. I looked at James, and then looked down.

Into the face of Edward Cullen.

I gasped, the shock on my face obvious. James took the glasses from my hand and placed them on the table. He gently took my arm and turned me to make introductions, as if I were his date at a cocktail party.

"This is Jasper Hale" he gestured to the man on my right, who stared back at me with a tight face. He nodded once and I nodded in return. "…Emmett Cullen…" the man seated behind the small table smiled widely at me and extended his hand. I reached out automatically and shook it. "…and Edward Cullen." I let my eyes stop at his face, the perfect features my memory had conjured a far cry from the glorious beauty before me. He reached out his hand, the same hand I had touched just hours ago, and I shivered when his fingers grasped mine. I smiled, and the memory of our earlier meeting, my onstage fantasy, and the present came together in a burst of lust that heated my face.

"Edward indicated that he would enjoy your company, and I thought I'd make the introduction. Feel free to spend as much time with him as he wishes." James smiled at me. Edward motioned to the seat in front of me, and I sat.

"Jasper, Emmett, would you like to join me in a game of darts? Loser buys." James led the way and the two men got up and followed him, Emmett craning his head in order to continue smiling at me. He almost ran into Jasper, who shot him a dirty look. Emmett shrugged and they continued towards the game area.

I turned back to Edward, and he was already staring at me. I didn't know what to say, so I sat, waiting.

He half smiled and said, "It's customary to engage the patron in polite, non-confrontational conversation. It lessens the awkwardness of the transaction." I waited, unsure of the lesson in stripper etiquette. His half-smile widened and he leaned forward. His voice was low, but still audible above the pulsing music. "I am only kidding, Bella."

I sat up straight. "Irina. My name is Irina." I crossed my legs.

He nodded at me, still smiling. "Certainly. Irina."

Neither of us spoke. After a moment, he broke the silence. "For someone who hasn't been in town long, you've managed to make quite an impression on the locals." He looked around the club, and I saw that several of the dancers and more than a few of the men were watching us. I fidgeted in my seat uncomfortably and looked down.

He looked at me quizzically. "Something wrong?"

I debated my reply. "I guess I'm just not used to the attention," I answered, honestly.

His response was completely unexpected. He threw back his had and laughed, and I felt myself shrink self-consciously. He shook his head and looked at me. "A stripper who doesn't like attention?" He grinned, but his eyes held a bit of an edge.

I bristled. "I am not a stripper." _Absolutely, obviously not. What in the hell was I thinking… _

He struggled unsuccessfully to keep his smile at bay. "I apologize. _Mea culpa._" He bowed his head apologetically, but his grin won out.

He picked up the drink in front of him, and I glanced at the one sitting before me. I tasted it; Diet Coke with lemon. We sipped slowly, regarding each other.

"So." He swirled the brown liquid in his glass. "You seem much less hospitable now than you were earlier this evening." His gaze met mine. "Why do you think that is?"

He waited, expectantly. I was at a loss. "I don't honestly know." _Why am I so upset? I should be elated that this god of a man, physical perfection incarnate, is trying to engage me in conversation, asked James for me _personally_, but I can't seem to get past this… whatever… _I just couldn't put my finger on what was bothering me.

The song changed, and he smiled. "I do enjoy this song, Irina. Perhaps you would be so kind as to dance for me?" His smile again contained an edge of something I couldn't name.

I stood up a bit awkwardly, moving to the front of his chair. I closed my eyes and listened for a moment; Paula Cole's "Feelin' Love" was one of my favorite songs off of the CD that Eric had given me. I turned towards the DJ booth and waved at Eric. He smiled back and flashed me a peace sign.

I turned back to Edward and looked into his eyes. I let my fantasy crash into this reality, and pushed away all of my self-loathing and doubt and irritation. I stared at the man before me.

_He asked for _me_. He wanted _me_. He _wants _me. _

The shiver I felt was not of fear; it was lust. I used the toe of my boot to spread his feet apart. I leaned in closely and let my hair slowly brush over his shoulder and neck. I placed one hand on the back of his chair and began to move, my hips undulating in time to the slow, steady beat.

_He asked for _me_. He wanted _me_. He _wants _me. _

His lips parted slightly, and a smile played upon them. I opened my mouth and licked my lips, and he unconsciously mimicked the movement. I smiled with this secret knowledge, this new power. I pulled my hair over my head and moved in closer, his leg between my knees, his face inches away from my body.

_He asked for _me_. He wanted _me_. He _wants _me. _

I watched as his eyes roamed over me, taking me in. I spread my legs and bent down quickly, grabbing my ankles. I slowly worked my way back up, running my hands up the outside of my legs, allowing my hair to brush first against the chair and then over his lap. I was eye-level with his crotch and saw his erection, saw him twitch once. I smiled and bit my lip, raising my eyes to his, watching as his breathing grew heavy and his eyes hooded, roaming from my collarbones to my breasts.

I put my hand on the chair between his legs and leaned into him, my hair falling over my shoulders. I breathed him in and exhaled into his ear with a sigh.

"My God, you smell wonderful." I breathed his scent in and sighed again. I felt warmth against my hand and looked down. I saw that he had inched forward slightly in the chair and his erection was now pressing against my wrist. I looked up into his eyes and smiled. I leaned into him again, and whispered into his ear.

"Do you want me?"

He looked at me for one, long second, and I saw the edge was gone. I thought I saw him nod once, the movement so quick I wasn't certain..

I smiled and whispered into his ear again.

"No touching the strippers."

I backed away suddenly and turned, my back facing him, and bent over. I repeated my slow movements, running my hands up my legs, and let him appreciate the view. I let him see my ass, made him wonder what it would feel like beneath his hands. I turned again to display my body, throwing back my head, running my hands over my breasts and between my legs, letting him touch me everywhere with his eyes, only his eyes, never the perfect fingers…

My breath caught as the song ended, and I backed away from him, momentarily disoriented. I pulled my chair out, sitting down and picking up my drink as if I'd just returned from a trip to the restroom. He continued to stare at me, and then shook his head slightly as if waking from a trance. He moved his chair so that he was again seated at the table, and I looked down. He was trying surreptitiously to rearrange his erection. I smiled, and I detected an air of embarrassment about him. I smiled wider.

"Can I get either of you anything?" Kara the waitress was standing next Edward. He shifted himself uncomfortably and indicated for me to order.

"Nothing for me, thanks." I sat back with my drink, crossed my legs and tossed my hair over my shoulder.

He shook his head and Kara walked away. I leaned in.

"Is there anything _I_ can get for you?" I asked huskily.

He looked at me carefully. "I don't think you would give me what I want," he growled.

It was my turn to throw back my head and laugh. "I guess it all depends on what you're looking for." _A joke. An imposter. A worthless—_I beat the thoughts back, determined to win this strange game of dominance I insisted on playing. _A worthy opponent._

There was a new fire in his topaz eyes. "I don't think you're _capable_ of giving me what I am looking for."

He suddenly stood, pushing his chair back so hard it almost fell. He pulled something out of his pocket, but I didn't look up at him, staring instead at a long fissure in the center of the wooden tabletop. A weakness in the wood, a deep groove, a mar that no amount of glue and pressure could repair completely.

He threw a crisp fifty-dollar bill down on the table, and stalked away without another word.

* * * * *

A/N: "Feelin' Love" by Paula Cole can be found on the "City of Angels" soundtrack.

Another long chapter. I hope you think it's worth it! Keep those stripper songs coming… I plan on doing a play list.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 7**

Fury lit my insides. '_Not capable of giving me what I am looking for'? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_

I stood and walked to the bar. On the way I caught Eric's eye and jerked my head toward Tanya. He nodded and I asked Tanya to get him his usual –whatever that was—and requested Kara take it to him.

"Do you want to start a tab?" she asked.

I shook my head and dropped the fifty on the bar. "I'll have a rum and coke." She raised her eyebrow, but didn't say anything. I saw one of the girls chatting with James at the end of the bar, tamping down a pack of Marlboro Light 100s. I walked to the end of the bar and signaled to Tanya. "Do you want something to drink? It's on me." James and the girl, I thought her name was Angel, nodded and thanked me. I bummed a cigarette off of Angel and a light off of James.

The first drag was difficult, and I didn't really inhale. The second time, I inhaled, feeling the smoke char my lungs. I tried desperately not to cough. The third time I inhaled was much easier, and I felt calmness begin to spread, but whether that was from the alcohol or the nicotine, or both, I wasn't certain.

I turned back towards Eric, and he held up his drink in thanks. I held up six fingers. After a beat, recognition lit his eyes and he nodded.

I finished my drink quickly, put my glass down on the bar, and asked for another. Tanya didn't look at me this time as she placed another full glass in front of me. I finished my cigarette, stubbing it out in an ashtray. I walked to the bottom of the stairs, already halfway through my second drink, and felt the alcohol beginning to take effect, smoothing the edges of my ragged anger. I heard the distinctive beat of the song I was waiting for and threw back my drink, set down my glass, and walked up on stage without an introduction. Betheny flashed me a dirty look as she passed me on her way down the runway.

I stalked to the pole, grabbed and swung myself around, legs wide, down into a split. I closed my eyes, picturing his face… the eyes, the lips, the tongue, the erection… I pushed myself forward onto hands and knees and crawled slowly, arching my back, down the runway. I stopped and sat on my knees, running my hands over my body.

_Hey stripper…_

_I wanna be your mister…_

_I've come to stare…_

_You like me to stare…_

I pushed my breasts together and threw back my head, running my hands down my stomach and waist, then down to my knees, forcing them open with a quick thrust. I fell forward, onto all fours, hair over my face, continuing my slow crawl down the runway towards the bar. I imagined him, seated before me, legs spread, watching as I came towards him slowly… I reached the end and sat back again, tossing my hair, running my hands down between my legs. I stood slowly, feeling the heat coursing through my body. My eyes opened as the beat changed, another song now starting, and I heard applause and whistling at my feet. Several men clustered around the end of the runway put their bills in my garter, but I wasn't looking at them.

I scanned the crowd, but didn't see him.

He was gone.

* * * * *

I sat in the changing area, rubbing my feet, boots on the floor next to me. Betheny gave me another dirty look when she walked by. I ignored her, consumed with my own thoughts.

What the hell is wrong with me? What did I expect to accomplish with that little stunt? Why am I freaking out so much over this?

I was horrified to feel angry tears cropping up in my eyes, and struggled to keep them at bay. Sniffing, wishing for a tissue, I stood and padded to the bathroom stalls. I locked the stall door behind me, closed the lid and sat, brooding.

After a few minutes, I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Bella?" It was Alice.

I swiped at my eyes and blinked the residual tears away. "Hang on…"

I opened the door to Alice's puzzled expression. "Everything OK?"

_Sure. Just peachy, thanks for asking._

"Um, yeah. Fine. Just still getting used to this dancing thing." I stepped from one foot to the other.

She regarded me for a minute. "Come with me." She turned and I followed.

She led the way into her office, shutting the door behind us. She indicated the comfortable chair across from her desk, and I sat down. She walked behind her desk and bent, rummaging in a drawer, and pulled out a medium-sized canvas bag and placed it on her desk. From within, she withdrew a smaller drawstring cloth bag.

She reached back into the canvas bag and pulled out a long, charcoal-colored rectangle with a stick in one end.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

I looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "What _is _it?" I asked.

She looked at me sadly. "It's a scarf!" She ran her hands over it. "I've been knitting it for about a month now. I have two more pattern repeats before I'm finished with it." She smiled and handed it over the desk to me.

"Wait a minute—you _knit_ this?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course." She shrugged indifferently.

I ran my hand over the bumps, surprised by its softness. I looked at her, impressed. "What is it made out of?"

"This is called alpaca. Very soft, very lightweight, very warm. Incredible to knit with. And very expensive."

I looked back to the rectangle. "I didn't even think people still did that kind of thing anymore. After all, you can buy scarves at Wal-Mart for, what, five dollars?" It seemed a bit of a waste to me, making something stitch by stitch, when it could be had for so much cheaper.

"But the knitting itself… it's a creative process! You take sticks and yarn, follow a pattern, and you create something! Literally give birth to a new thing where nothing existed before." She sighed. "It is very calming, very satisfying. And it's a great stress reliever." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "Even if I didn't pick out the color."

I looked down again at the scarf, looking more closely. "What are these lines here?" I traced along a series of lines that zigzagged through its length.

She picked up the smaller bag and came around her desk, sitting in the chair next to me. "Those are called cables. They're made by slipping stitches to a third needle, working the next few stitches according to pattern, and then working the slipped stitches."

She pulled a pair of small bamboo needles out of the smaller bag and handed them to me, then rummaged in the larger bag and pulled out a pretty dark-green yarn. "What do you think?"

"It's very pretty."

She handed me the yarn, and I was amazed at its softness. I ran it through my fingers, feeling the texture and the lightness. I even put it against my cheek, and smelled a slight lavender fragrance. I sighed.

She smiled broadly at me. "You're hooked already!"

I grinned as I handed the ball of yarn back. "You want to make me something out of this, I wouldn't complain."

She shook her head. "How about I teach you to knit, and you make it yourself?"

I grimaced. "I don't think knitting is for me."

"You'd be surprised."

* * * * *

A half hour later Alice had taught me how to cast on and how to do the knit stitch. I was working my second row, trying to perfect the little loop thing, when I dropped a stitch and cursed.

"Dammit! I thought you said this was supposed to relieve stress, not create more of it!" I fumed.

She smiled. "It takes a bit of getting used to, but soon you'll have beautiful things flying off of your needles," she promised, as she took the needles from me and picked up the stitch.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then I laughed quietly.

"What is it?"

"If you had told me three months ago that I'd be living in a little town I'd never heard of, working as an exotic dancer, sitting in the office of the 'talent manager' learning to knit…" I laughed again, more loudly.

She laughed, too.

Another quiet minute passed, and I again broke the silence.

"So, who is the scarf for?"

"Edward."

I felt a jolt go through me. I had done my best to forget about him for the past thirty minutes. His name brought a crashing wave of panic, embarrassment, hope…

Alice was talking. "He picked out the color. I don't know why he insists that everything I make be gray, but he does. Scarves, gloves, dress socks… I never should have spoiled him so much, now his taste is very expensive. And he refuses to wear anything but hand-knit dress socks." She grumbled, but only halfheartedly.

"Why was he here tonight?" I asked suddenly, afraid of the answer, but more afraid of not knowing.

She looked up at me, startled. "He was here?"

"Yes, with two other men. The other men went to play darts with James and I…I sat with him for a while." _Why couldn't I just say that I'd danced for him?_

She was nodding. "Jasper and Emmett. I saw them, but I hadn't realized Edward was with them. He doesn't usually come here at night." She paused thoughtfully.

"Who are they?"

"Jasper is… well, I guess you could call him my boyfriend, but I hate that term, it doesn't do our relationship justice." She smiled down at her knitting; a sock, she'd said. Her hands moved quickly as she worked the yarn over and around the four pointy needles. It made my head spin just to think about the damage I would do to myself if I ever tried doing that.

"Jasper, his sister, and my brothers and I all grew up together. Jasper and I fell in love in high school and have been together ever since. We both work odd hours, and are so busy with work that we rarely get to see one another…" she sighed. "He doesn't like coming here, but he does it so that we can see each other. I don't think he would come at all if there wasn't a separate game room, away from the dancers. It makes him… uncomfortable to see so much flesh." She grinned. "Emmett is my other brother. Let's just say that he truly appreciates the female form."

She looked at me thoughtfully. "I wonder why Edward was here? He usually meets with James during the day. He doesn't exactly approve of the 'highly physical nature of the business.'" She imitated his soft voice, and I laughed.

"He has a problem with exotic dancers?" I asked.

She shrugged. "When the previous owners approached us about purchasing the club, the first thing we did was check the books. Well, Edward and Jasper did," she corrected. "It needed some fairly major structural renovations, and Edward argued that it wasn't worth the investment. Jasper's mother Esme runs an interior design firm, and our company often contracts with her company for renovation work. She offered to hire the labor and cut her normal percentage, but he still argued against it. He was pushing for a sports bar, and when Emmett suggested that we turn half of the club into a game area with big screens, he still wasn't on board. We addressed every one of his concerns… but he kept putting his foot down. Finally, he came clean as to why he was balking; no strippers." She smiled and shook her head. "Jasper admitted that he didn't like that aspect of the business either, but the projections were really good, and since there was limited competition… it made sense. If he could just get off of his morality kick, we could probably make some serious money. They finally compromised."

"How?" I asked, the needles and yarn forgotten in my hands.

"Well, we found that it was substantially easier to get a liquor license and all of the necessary operating permits if we had exotic dancers instead of strippers or nude dancers. So we decided to only have exotic dancers."

"…The difference being, strippers take off their clothes, exotic dancers don't," I stated.

She nodded. "Edward still didn't like it, but he signed the contracts, and we just don't talk about it. Everyone knows his distaste, but we don't discuss it. It's why I was so surprised to hear that he was here tonight." She looked at me again and cocked her head slightly. "You say you met him earlier today?"

My heart skipped a beat as I remembered. "Yes. At that WiFi cafe a few blocks away," I reminded her.

She nodded again. "That's right. He said he was having problems with his wireless connection, and asked to sit with you for a better signal?"

I nodded. She laughed.

"He is so utterly transparent sometimes." She put her knitting down in her lap and leaned toward me. "That cafe has the strongest wireless connection of anywhere in the city, with the exception of our business offices. He oversaw the installation himself when we did the renovations on the entire building last year. Besides," she added, "I know for a fact his laptop has broadband. He doesn't even _need_ WiFi. He must have really wanted an excuse to talk to you." She smiled at me.

I looked down at the now-tangled mess of yarn in my lap. _He shouldn't have even bothered._

* * * * *

A/N: So Edward is sly, has morality issues, and is a bit of a stalker. Not very OOC, huh? And before I receive any reviews on this… I am aware that California has a state-wide ban on smoking in bars… but I made up the city, so I can make up its laws, too.

"Stripper" by SohoDolls can be found on the "Ribbed For The Numb Generation" album.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 8**

I didn't get up until almost eleven the next morning. I yawned and stretched, then retrieved my bag to count my earnings from the night before. Ninety-five dollars wasn't that great for five hours' work, but it would probably cover my gas and groceries for the rest of the week. I shrugged. I probably would have made more if I'd been upstairs working instead of hiding out in Alice's office, playing with sticks and string. And if I hadn't blown Edward's fifty by buying drinks for Eric and the girls. _It was better than the alternative, keeping the money and feeling like…_

I shut off my thoughts. I rolled my neck and decided to take a walk this morning instead of yoga.

I dressed in yoga pants and a tee shirt and drove to the park, locking my truck. I stretched before starting down the paved path that wound through a low marsh, watching out for bicyclists and dog walkers.

My thoughts returned to the previous night, and I cringed as I thought of the spectacle I'd made of myself on stage, groping myself, crawling along… I shook my head in an effort to clear the memory, but it refused to recede.

The beauty of his face, his crooked smile was replaced with the hard look in his eyes as he appraised me. _Why did he even bother having James bring me over? His distaste was so obvious... _

The path curved back around towards a small parking area, half-full of cars. I noticed several people sitting at picnic tables, or eating in their cars. I checked my watch; it was lunchtime already. My stomach growled at the thought; I hadn't had breakfast.

I saw that the path I was on looped around to the lot, connecting with a second path that ran along the road; I assumed it headed back the other direction to where my truck was parked. I continued along, gauging the time and figuring I'd be back at my truck in fifteen minutes or so. I tried concentrating on my walking, on the massive oak trees that lined the parkway, the sound of the birds… but my thoughts kept seeing his face, his eyes, his hands…

A car traveling the opposite way on the parkway slammed to a halt. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the driver execute a U-turn in the middle of the street. The silver car pulled up beside me, keeping pace as I continued to walk. The passenger side window rolled down smoothly.

"Do you need a ride?" It was him. I couldn't see him inside the tinted darkness of the car, but I recognized his voice immediately. I ignored him and kept walking. The car rolled forward next to me. "Do you need a ride?" he repeated, slightly louder this time.

I looked towards the car, my eyebrows pulled together in irritation. "No. I do not need a ride."

He chuckled. "I see. Well, do you _want_ a ride?"

I stopped. _Boy, do I ever. But not the kind you'd be willing to give me. _

I turned towards the car, more irritated at myself than with him. "What do you want, Edward?" Saying his name sent a little thrill through me, and I liked the shiver more than I wanted to admit. He smiled crookedly at me.

"I was on my way to lunch, and saw you walking. I thought that decrepit truck you drive might have broken down, and decided to find out if you needed a Good Samaritan. But if you don't need a ride…" he trailed off.

Several cars slowed to go around him, one or two of them honking impatiently. He ignored them. My irritation grew. "Why don't you stop blocking traffic?" I asked, curtly.

"Perhaps you'd like to join me for lunch?"

I blinked, surprised. _What in the fifth circle of hell is going on here?_

I didn't answer, and instead, turned to continue walking towards my truck. His car started rolling again, staying right next to me no matter how fast or slow I walked.

Suddenly the path turned. I looked up, and saw that it resumed across the parkway and continued back the direction I had just come.

I groaned and heard him chuckle.

His car was blocking the way to cross the street, and I was at his passenger side door. I

stood, unsure what to do. I heard him sigh and saw the door swing open.

"Get in," he ordered.

I got in stiffly and sat, determined not to break the silence. No sooner had I shut the door than the car hurtled forward, doubling the speed limit in a few short seconds. I held on to the seat and saw the parking lot with my truck pass by on the right, a flash of dull red.

He kept driving, and eventually slowed down to a reasonable pace. I crossed my arms and looked out of my window. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

He stared at the road ahead. "I often take the parkway instead of the main roads. It's much more beautiful."

"I guess what I meant was, 'what am _I _doing here?'" _Why am I in your car? Why am I with you? Why do you keep showing up in my life?_

Again he chuckled. "You wanted a ride, obviously."

"I didn't want a ride. And I didn't need a ride. You offered a ride, and I didn't want to be impolite." I fairly spit out the words.

He didn't answer, but out of the corner of my eye I detected a smile.

Something clicked in my brain, and I turned to him. "How did you know I have a truck?"

He stilled imperceptibly. Then, "I saw you getting out of it at the club yesterday morning."

I gasped. "You were there? When I auditioned?"

He nodded, still looking at the road.

My mind was working through this, putting the pieces together. _He was at the club when I pulled into the lot. He came inside to talk to James. He watched my audition. He saw me._

"Did you follow me to the cafe?" I accused, angry.

"Not exactly. I was driving by on my way to a meeting yesterday when I saw your truck. Not many old Chevys with Washington state plates in this area." He smiled and looked at me, unapologetic. "I was hungry. And I decided to support the local economy—"

"That's a load of bullshit. Alice told me that you own that entire building, including the cafe. And I also know that you weren't having any problems with your Internet connection on your laptop, Mr. Broadband." I shot this at him haughtily and turned again to look out of the window.

He laughed. "Did you really just call me 'Mr. Broadband?'" He shook his head and chuckled. "I don't actually own the cafe business, just the building. Of course I am going to support my own business interests. And what was the harm in using minor subterfuge to chat with an attractive young woman for a few minutes?" He shook his head in mock sadness.

"Bella, Bella Bella…" my skin tingled as he said my name. "What _am_ I going to do with you?"

I sighed to myself. _I have so many ideas of what you could do with me, I wouldn't know where to begin…_

He had turned off the parkway and now we were driving up a long, narrow road along the side of a tree-covered hill. A large, pristine white building came into view. He pulled in to the covered entrance beneath a green and gold sign reading, "Valley Country Club".

"Mr. Cullen!" The green-shirted valet was quick to open my door.

"Tony, how are you today?"

"Fine, sir. Have a nice lunch, sir."

I'd exited the car and stood, arms folded over my chest. Edward reached out to take my arm, but I backed away. "What are we doing here?" I hissed.

He looked at me blankly. "I invited you to lunch."

I opened my arms and looked at myself. "Look how I am dressed! You could have warned me that we weren't going to Applebee's" I was fuming.

Again with the blank look. "Would you rather go to Applebee's?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not exactly dressed for a country club luncheon." _Doesn't he understand how I feel? Fairly mortified… _

He shook his head at me. "Nonsense. You look fine. No one would ever say otherwise." He tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and I shivered.

_No one would ever say anything to you, but they would know I don't belong here…_

Despite my mortification, I allowed him to take my arm, and we walked through the entrance to the dining room.

The maî·tre d'showed us to a table near a massive stone fireplace, next to a large window. The view was breathtaking; from this vantage atop the hill, I could see the varying shades of green in stark contrast with the gray mountains that lay far beyond. I turned to Edward.

"This is really beautiful."

He nodded. "My favorite table."

At that moment, a waiter appeared. Edward spoke quietly to the man and then turned to me. "Would you care for some wine with your meal?"

I looked back and forth between the two. "Um… I've never had wine before…"

Edward smiled. "If you'd prefer something else…"

I shook my head quickly. "No, I'll have what you're having." _Except I'll be having a heart attack over here. 'Coronary, table for one…'_

The waiter returned with two glasses and a pitcher of ice water. As he poured, I surveyed the table. As he turned to fill my glass, I spoke

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, Miss?"

"I think there's been a mistake." I picked up one of the forks next to my plate. "It looks like they gave me an extra fork." I handed the fork to him with a smile.

The waiter stood, momentarily a statue, then turned to Edward.

Edward smiled, then picked up his fork and handed it to the waiter. "It appears I've been given an extra fork as well."

"Very good, sir." Without another work, the waiter turned and left the table.

I looked at Edward, another smile playing at his lips as he surveyed the menu.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, tell me, what are you smiling about?"

"Is it safe to assume that you won't be ordering a salad for lunch?" It was a normal question, I suppose, but that didn't explain why his golden eyes were fairly dancing.

"I hadn't thought about it… why?"

He put down the menu. "Some restaurants give you one fork for your salad, and one for your entrée. Since you obviously don't need your salad fork…" he shrugged, and I saw that the laughter in his eyes threatened to take over his entire face.

"Oh." _What had I done? Not even five minutes at this fancy-schmancy place, and I made a huge gaffe. I'm sure none of his high-end, high-maintenance girlfriends would ever do something so—_

He reached his hand across the table towards me, interrupting my kamikaze train of thought. I resisted the urge to pull my hands away, fold them across my chest, hold myself up. He grazed my knuckles with his fingertip, and looked into my eyes.

"You are a delight." He smiled gently. "Thank you for coming with me."

There was no doubting the sincerity in his words, and I felt myself begin to melt in response to his touch, his eyes, his voice, his breath…

I took a shaky breath and returned his smile, reaching for my menu.

Let's hope they have something on the menu that isn't salad.

* * * * *

A/N: I couldn't resist the restaurant scene! Bella hasn't been exposed to the life that Edward has, and it has the potential of creating a huge rift between them – but only if _she _lets it.

I may or may not be updating on Wednesdays, it depends on how much real life encroaches on my writing.

Reviews! OMG, you make me squee with your awesome reviews! I puffy heart each and every one of you. Special shout out to AzureEyedI for just being awesome.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 9**

"Oh my God, you're _kidding!_"

Alice and I were in her office, a half-hour before my shift started. She'd taught me the purl stitch, and I had been trying to get used to moving the yarn in front of the needles. It was hard to concentrate on telling her my story and moving the needles, so I gave up on the needles. The story was definitely the priority.

"No. He showed up on the side of the road and blocked me from crossing the path." I feigned irritation, and she laughed.

"What did he say?"

"He asked me if I wanted a ride, then asked me if I'd like to go to lunch with him."

"Where did he take you?"

"Valley Country Club?" I wasn't certain, but I thought that was the name.

Alice's eyes grew round. "Really? That's fantastic. What did you have?"

My cheeks colored as I remembered the salad incident. I told Alice, and she laughed so hard she dropped her needles in order to hold her sides. "You—sent—the—fork—back," she gasped.

I was laughing, too.

"What—did—Edward,"

"He sent his back, too."

She burst out into fresh guffaws, put her head back on her chair and laughed until she cried. Her reaction made me laugh even harder, and we spent the next few minutes trying to get hold of ourselves. We were wiping our tears when there was a knock at the door.

It was Rainn. "Can I switch and work tomorrow night instead of Saturday?" she asked without preamble.

Alice wiped her eyes and walked around her desk to check something on her computer.

"Um, yeah, no problem. Just make sure that there will be enough girls on the floor. It looks like Ambre and Angel will be here, but I'm not sure about Betheny."

Rainn looked down at me for the first time. "Could you cover me?" she asked

I shrugged. "Sure."

She nodded. "Ok, then?" to Alice.

"'ello, Al_eesss" _a dark-haired girl I'd never seen before poked her head around the door frame. "I was here at zix-serty, so I shall be leeeving at one-serty, _non_?" She blinked her kohl-lined eyes at Alice expectantly.

"Sure, 'Swa, that's fine."

The girl nodded, blew a kiss, and walked up the stairs.

"Swa?" I repeated. _What kind of a stage name is 'Swa?'_

"Short for 'Nancoise.' She likes to affect a French stage persona. She already had her name when she came here, and refused to change it." Alice sniffed disapprovingly.

Rainn rolled her eyes. "Her name is Michelle and she's from Eureka."

Alice looked surprised. "How did you know?"

Rainn rolled her eyes again. "I saw her driver's license."

It was Alice's turn to roll her eyes. "Some girl from Northern California affecting a French accent as a means to reinvent her life. Telling patrons her name is 'Nancoise' and that she is a student traveling from France. Taking a semester off. That she'd done work 'een ze mooveez'." Alice imitated a lousy French accent, with puckered lips and half-closed eyes.

"I'm all for showing a little individuality in order to set yourself out from the crowd, but please don't act as if you haven't been pushed out of a vagina."

I burst into fresh laughter, and soon found myself unable to speak. Tears again clouded my eyes. Finally I regained some semblance of hold on myself. "Oh my God, Alice!" I gasped, "Seriously? 'pushed out…" I couldn't finish, and I dissolved into laughter again. I slid down onto the floor, and Alice joined in this time, her peals of laughter sweet against my full-on guffaws.

Rainn looked back and forth between the two of us, as if she was trying to decide which one of us was more mentally unstable.

Alice's laughter slowed, and she look at Rainn. "I swear to God, Rose, if you roll your eyes one more time…" she giggled again.

I gasped for air, holding my already sore stomach muscles. "Wait a minute… Rose… what Rose?" I was barely coherent.

Rainn's mouth was a thin line as she stared daggers at Alice.

Alice smiled sweetly in return. "'Rainn' is her stage name. Her real name is Rosalie."

I looked back and forth between them, and burst into another fit of giggles. "'Rosalie'? Oh, my God, that is magnificent. Like… 'Rose in the Rainn'…"

"—Golden Showers!" Alice interrupted, and I was flat on my back with uncontrollable screams of laughter, tears fully streaming from my eyes, screwing up my mascara, but I didn't care.

Rose… Rainn, whatever… tossed her hair haughtily. "I can see you're enjoying yourself at my expense. How pathetic." The look she directed at Alice was hard.

Alice puckered her mouth in response.

"Oh, please. You've never been able to take a joke, Rose."

"I don't mind jokes, as long as they are funny," Rose snapped.

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Just like you don't mind criticism?"

Rose folded her arms and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "Yes, Alice, you're just the picture of perfection in your little office, playing with your stupid sticks and string." She rolled her eyes again.

Alice smiled at Rose, but there was a hardness to her eyes. She turned to me. "Rose couldn't handle going to college; all that sitting in class and reading. So she dropped out and went to work for our company. But it seems that she can't handle sitting at a desk for six hours a day, so she quit and lived off of us until Esme insisted she get a job. It turns out that dancing is just about all she's qualified to do." She indicated her office with a flourish. "It looks to me like getting my degree and busting my ass sixty hours a week for the last few years has paid off."

She pointed one of her needles at Rose. "How are you making the payments on that nice little BMW you're driving? It certainly can't all come from dancing. I bet if I asked Edward to do an audit of the accounts…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

Two miniscule points of red colored Rosalie's cheeks, and her face became a mask of anger. Without another word, she stalked away.

After a minute, I pulled myself up and turned to Alice. "Wow…I'd check your tires if I were you. And your brake lines." I shook my head. Rosalie had always been cold to me, but now she was livid, that much was obvious. I was secretly glad to not be the one receiving the brunt of her anger.

Alice shrugged as she sat up, too. "She has to forgive me. She's practically my sister, after all."

My mouth fell open.

"Didn't I tell you? Rosalie is Jasper's sister. She and my brother Emmett kind of have a thing going off-and-on." She rolled her eyes. "She's always cold to the other girls, but I have a feeling her rudeness towards you is because of Edward. Throughout the years we've known the Hales, he's never shown her the slightest bit of interest, and she has never forgiven him for the affront." Alice laughed. "Rose always wants all of the attention. She loves it when men look at her, if only to acknowledge her beauty. She has never been exceptionally smart, so she relies on her looks to get her by. It's been like that since middle school, when she figured out how to use her…_assets_. And she detests being called on it." Alice smiled wryly. "One of these days, it's going to be her downfall. She's lucky that Emmett indulges her so much. And that he works so hard."

_Edward has known her for years, but isn't attracted to Rosalie? Maybe he is gay, after all._

"What does Emmett do?"

"He's the head contractor on all of our renovation projects, coordinates with all of the labor. Does a very good job, too. He's very into the physical labor aspect of the job. And he's not afraid to put the fear of God into someone doing a less than stellar job. When he gets cranked off… well, let's just say, I'm glad he's on _our_ side." Alice pulled herself back up into her chair, smoothing her hair and rearranging her needles.

"Dammit!"

"What happened, Alice?"

"I just messed up the last row and have to unknit it." She frowned and began to work.

I reached over her and picked up the sheet protector sitting next to her on the chair.

"Wow, is this the pattern for the scarf you're knitting for Edward?"

She nodded. "Isn't it gorgeous? I found it on Ravelry. It's called the Irish Hiking Scarf. I thought it looked appropriately masculine. I was originally going to use cashmere, but I had some of this gray alpaca and thought I'd use it instead."

I shook my head. "I'd be happy just to knit one row and purl the next without getting them mixed up."

She laughed. "You'll get used to it. Just keep practicing." I handed the pattern back to her and she scrutinized the instructions for the next row.

"So you never finished telling me about the rest of your date with Edward."

I wiped at the mascara beneath my eyes and she shook her head.

"Don't worry, we'll fix it before you go up."

I nodded and picked up my yarn and needles again, attempting to put my needle into the correct stitch. "Nothing to tell, really. We had lunch, talked a bit, then he drove me back to my truck."

She looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Are you going to see him again?"

"Well, I think so." I faltered slightly. _Had he really meant to invite me, or did he feel obligated?_

"He mentioned something about a new club opening this downtown this weekend and asked if I wanted to go."

Alice squealed with delight.

"He invited you to the Whisky opening!" She clapped her hands. "The company has been working on that renovation project for over a year." She cocked her head to one side. "Did you talk about anything else but work?"

I thought for a moment. "Well, we talked about college, Phoenix, Forks… the basics, I guess." _Polite conversation, no mention of our little exchange at the club…_

"So are you coming to the opening this weekend? We'll all be there."

"Um… what about Rosalie?" I tried to be nonchalant, but we both knew where I was going with this.

Alice laughed. "Don't worry. Rose may be obnoxious, but she isn't dangerous." She shook her head and spoke to herself. "I wish she'd get over this inferiority complex. It creates such problems in our lives sometimes."

* * * * *

I checked my reflection in the mirror for the fifth time in as many minutes. Alice had insisted on lending me some clothes for my pseudo-date with Edward tonight. _If I think of it as a pseudo-date instead of a real date, will that keep me from being disappointed?_

The silver tissue tee shirt and black skirt were definitely casual, not exactly club kid attire. Alice insisted that it was appropriate enough for dinner, although Edward hadn't mentioned anything other than going to the bar opening. I shrugged my shoulders. The skirt was short, but cute, and my legs really did look fantastic in the heels Alice had given me. I made a mental note to find out how much they were going to cost me.

I was doing a final check on my makeup and my hair when I head the door buzz. My heart flipped, and I took three deep breaths before answering.

"It's Edward Cullen."

I took another calming breath.

"I'll be right down."

I stopped at the bottom of the steps to adjust my skirt, and looked out of the front door to watch him. He stood against one of the pillars, waiting.

_Waiting. For me._

He looked fantastic; black suede jacket, charcoal v-neck shirt, dark washed jeans, black shoes. He was checking something on his phone when I finally pushed the door open. He smiled at me crookedly and opened his arms.

"Bella" he breathed, hugging me close for one second before kissing my cheek.

I gasped, light-headed from his scent and his sudden closeness. He pulled back and I looked into his eyes. "Your eyes look… different. They're more brown today." _Brain filter was definitely unengaged._

He shrugged. "Some days they're brown, some days they're almost gold. Depends on my mood… and what I'm wearing." _I wonder what they look like when you aren't wearing anything at all…_

"You look very nice this evening." He smiled again as he took my arm and led me to his car, opening my door and helping me in.

I reached over and opened his door for him, holding it until he'd walked back around to his side of the car. "Thank you." The look on his face was unreadable.

I shrugged my shoulders. He closed the door and I breathed again as his scent filled the car. _What cologne does he wear?_

We were driving down the street before he spoke again. "There is a dinner scheduled tonight at Roxy before the opening. Several of my business associates will be there, along with various community leaders. I'm expected to put in an appearance." We were stopped at a red light, and he looked at me. "I would very much prefer a quiet dinner alone with you." _Is that a statement? A question? An invitation?_

I found my voice. "What do you suggest?" I asked.

A crooked smile played at his lips. "Perhaps we should stop off for an appetizer first? I doubt that they'll miss us."

* * * * *

We parked just off the parkway, in a small lot near the east bank of the Morgan River. Edward spread a blanket on a low spot near the edge where the grass gave way to smooth pebbles and sand. The sun was beginning to set behind the trees, the parkway quieting in its absence.

"Do you need any help?" I called. I felt strange, sitting barefoot and cross-legged on one blanket, covering my legs with another, while Edward pulled a large canvas bag and a soft-sided cooler from the trunk of the car. I heard his low chuckle as he closed the trunk and turned, walking towards me.

"Please, you are my guest. I want you to relax and enjoy yourself." He opened the wine,

handing both glasses to me as he looked in the canvas bag. Finally he pulled out two metal stakes and held them up for me to inspect.

I shrugged. "I give up."

"They are called Steady Sticks. The pointed end goes into the ground, and the rounded end holds your wineglass." He demonstrated.

"Very clever," I agreed. "Where did you find them?"

"Alice found them for me. Crate & Barrel, I think."

I laughed. Alice was one helpful girl, that much was certain.

I sipped my wine waited as he opened a container of brie and placed cheese, crackers and fruit on a slate square.

"You know, if you would have given me a bit more information, I could have dressed appropriately for this." I gestured to my bare feet and legs. I'd left the shoes in the car for safety – both theirs and mine.

He smiled at me. "I think you look entirely appropriate for our date."

My heart sped up. _Date. He called this 'our date.' We should talk about something else…_

"How was your day?" I blurted. _Original, Bella. Very original._

"Fine. My evening is shaping up to be much better, though." That sly smile again. _Don't melt, don't melt, don't melt…_

I smiled back, willing my heart to keep control of itself. "Mine, too." _Do I really want to play this game?_

I cleared my throat. "Um, Edward? I was wondering…" _Don't bail on this, it's too important._

He waited expectantly.

I twisted my free hand around the blanket. "I—I have a question." It was easier to say with my eyes closed. "What was your issue at the club the other night?"

I waited a beat, but there was no response. I opened my eyes, but he was looking down at the blanket. He let out a breath. "Let's just say that I have always been the kind of person not given to impropriety. And you are just… ever so improper." His eyes smoldered when he looked at me, burning away any doubt in my mind that this was a good thing.

"I—I'm not improper," my argument sounded wooden even to my ears. I took a sip of wine to keep from opening my mouth again.

His finger reached forward to trace the line of my jaw. "Everything about you is improper." The crooked smile caused my heart rate to increase.

"But I _am_ a good girl. This dancing thing is just… I mean, it's not like I'm having sex with men for money or something." _What? The 'it's not prostitution, so it's not that bad' argument? Seriously, Bella?_

He looked at me thoughtfully. "I guess only time will tell how good you are. And I'm willing to take that time, if you are."

"So… this dancing doesn't really upset you?" _Please be honest with me._

"Bella, Bella…" he shook his head as if I were a small child and he was explaining yet again why I was not allowed to write on the walls. "I saw your audition. I saw you dancing _before_ I introduced myself, didn't I? If it had been such a problem for me, I never would have gone out of my way to meet you, now, would I?"

I nodded, letting out a slow breath. Another question cropped up, unbidden, unwanted.

"But… well, why did you freak out and leave the table?"

He nodded. "Yes, well, I apologize for my rudeness. I admit, it's a bit of a struggle for me to separate the issues… I'm less than thrilled by the activities that go on at the bar. When we were working on the renovation, I actually fought against having exotic dancers at all. It offends my sensibilities, the public display of what should be a private thing." He looked at me, gauging my response with his dark gold eyes.

"Alice mentioned that you kind of have an issue with the whole stripper thing."

"Not strippers – exotic dancers," He corrected, smiling.

I smiled back. "Yes, exotic dancers. But… well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself at first, then suddenly…" I shook my head. _Why do you need to dissect everything?_

He leaned towards me, catching my chin with his finger.

"Bella, how do you think it feels to be turned on by something that you've always considered to be wrong?"

I blinked, startled.

"Watching you dance, it was like you were completely connected to me. It was something I never expected to experience. And then when James brought you over, just thinking about how you moved, it was very exciting to watch. And when I realized where I was… well, I was embarrassed that you had elicited such a response in me. I was very conflicted. It was easier to just walk away."

He let my chin go, but held my eyes with his.

"I sincerely hope that you can forgive me."

I nodded. My stomach growled.

He laughed, and the mood immediately lightened.

"Try this," he said, and moved next to me, dropping a slice of pear into my wineglass. "It's a Bartlett pear, very sweet when ripe. I feel that the flavor of this particular wine is enhanced by the fruit." I watched as the pear slice settled to the bottom of my wineglass, the last of the sunlight warming the already golden liquid.

He still sat next to me, so close I could hear his breath.

"What kind of wine is this?" I asked. _Anything to distract me from his closeness._

"Obsession." He smiled. "It's a cross between two varietals, a hybrid grape called "Symphony." Very similar in character to a Gewurztraminer or Johannesburg Riesling."

"Taste it." The voice was honey to my ears.

I turned to look at him; his eyes, his lips, his jaw. _I would give anything to taste…_

His eyes deepened, and I watched as his lips parted.

"Go on… taste it." He whispered.

I looked at him still, but brought the cup to my lips. I drank, tasting the sweetness of the wine. I nodded, never taking my eyes off of him.

"Now, taste this." He reached a long finger into my glass, and retrieved the slice of pear. He held it out to me and I bit, the graininess of the pear a nice balance to the sweetness of the wine. I chewed slowly, a surprised smile on my lips.

"And now, the best way to taste." He held out the rest of the pear, which I placed in my mouth. He held up a finger, and I waited while he took a drink of his wine and then leaned in, as if for a kiss. I closed my eyes and waited, feeling the warmth of his soft lips as they gently pressed against mine. His lips opened slightly and I mimicked his movement, surprised when warmed wine flowed from his lips to mine. I swallowed every drop, and when he pulled away, my pulse was staccato with desire. He smiled at me.

When I could breathe normally, I nodded. "Definitely. The best way. To taste."

He refilled our glasses and grinned triumphantly. "Shall we finish with our appetizers? We don't want to keep everyone waiting."

I sighed and brought a brie-laden cracker to my lips. _This was going to be a long night._

* * * * *

A/N: Special shout out to AzureEyedI and the Unicorns Unlimited group on Ravelry [dot] com. They helped me pick the pattern for Edward's scarf. I will post a photo of the scarf and a link to the pattern on my Stripped fanfic blog; the link is in my profile.

There really is a wine called "Obsession," a hybrid grape that's been trademarked as "Symphony." Although I think it's too cheap for the likes of Edward. And Crate & Barrel really does sell Steady Sticks. (I know 'cause I have them for summer orchestra concerts.) Oh, and the Morgan River is a figment of my imagination.

This one was a quite longer than I had originally planned, but there was a lot of necessary dialogue, and somehow I didn't think you'd mind…


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Special thanks to the most awesome beta ever, AzureEyedI. Do yourself a favor and check out her fanfic, "The Fixer."**

**From here on out I'll be updating approximately once a week, probably on Fridays.**

**NOTE: This chapter contains reference to alcohol use. Woot!**

**Chapter 10**

The car hurtled down the parkway and turned right onto a road that snaked up out of the valley.

"What time was dinner?" I asked, needing to concentrate on something other than his insane driving. _And his incredible hands on the steering wheel._

"What? Oh." I had interrupted his thoughts. He checked his watch. "Dinner was set for seven. But they're usually late." He shrugged.

I nodded and folded my arms, looking out the window as the darkening trees passed in a blur.

"Are you cold?" He was shrugging out of his coat before I could protest. I put my arms through the sleeves and brought the neck to my nose, inhaling deeply. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest.

"What is this cologne?"

"I don't know. It's a gray bottle. Alice bought it for me on my birthday last year."

I breathed in again with a sigh. "Whatever it is, it smells fantastic."

I felt warmth against my skin, and opened my eyes to see his fingertips tracing my kneecap.

"I think you smell divine."

My brain fumbled for a response, but so much of me was intent on the feeling of his fingers on my leg… "I don't own any perfume." I closed my eyes, willing his finger to trace a larger circle, up my thigh…

He placed his palm on my knee, and I breathed in a shiver. "I think I just smell… you."

I opened my eyes again, watching his face, his eyes, until he looked back at the road rushing towards us.

* * * * *

I'd kept his jacket once we got to the restaurant, and I was glad that I had; several of the guests were dressed much more formally than we were, and I was grateful that I could cover up.

Alice flagged us down as soon as we entered, and she whisked me away to the bar before I could ask Edward if he wanted anything. She sat me down on a bar stool and pulled out her knitting bag.

I laughed. "Alice, are you crazy? You're knitting at a bar?" I shook my head.

She shrugged. "It relaxes me. And I've been so tense… tell me about your date! How did it go?"

"Well, technically, we're in the midst of it, so… I can't really say. But so far, it's been good." I told her about the blanket and the riverside hors d'oeuvres, but left out the pears and the wine. Something in me wanted to keep the touching of our lips private. It felt sacred.

She smiled. "He really is an incurable romantic. Very traditional."

I snorted indelicately. "Yeah. 'Traditional' doesn't even begin to describe…" I shook my head. "He admits that he has some 'issues' with my dancing. But he says that he might be able to work through them." I shrugged.

Alice didn't say anything, she just watched me while she knit.

"Don't do that!" I ordered.

"What?"

"Don't look at me while you're knitting. It creeps me out."

She laughed. "I told you, it helps me relax. I can feel the stitches, I don't need to watch." Obediently, she looked down at her lap. "So…would you give it up if it meant that much to him?"

"Sure." I shrugged. "It's not like I plan on doing this forever. I just need to make some money until I can find something else to do."

Alice nodded, not saying anything as she finished her row. She put her knitting back in her bag and turned to me.

"Let's have a drink and make the rounds."

* * * * *

The Whisky sat on the top level of an old abandoned warehouse in the mostly-vacant western side of town. The egress of manufacturing over the past thirty years had left large industrial buildings scattered through the area, silent and devoid of use. Edward's company had invested in two such buildings; one had undergone extensive renovations and had been marketed as loft apartments to high-end clientele. The other had been turned into The Whisky.

A set of heavy aluminum double doors opened to a dark wine-colored hallway where small groups of people clustered before a heavy-duty steel door. A three-flight ride on the industrial lift was the only way for club-goers to have access.

"How is your drink?" Alice was fairly yelling to be heard over the music. I just nodded, on my third rum and Coke, feeling no pain, saving my voice. She flashed me a smile and turned to view the floor.

The dance floor was obviously the focal point of the club. The various lighting schemes used throughout the club, including the dance floor, were complex and well done. A phenomenal sound system reverberated while the DJ played mixes of cutting-edge dance songs mixed in with favorites from the alternative college stations.

Edward was seated at one of the banquettes with the club manager, an effusive, energetic twenty-something man we'd met earlier. They had spent most of the evening in animated conversation about he direction of the business. I listened as they'd discussed the development projects, but had tuned out after a while. I was grateful for Alice's company.

Alice grabbed my hand and we ended up at the bar, doing shots. After our third, she turned to me with a sly look.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

I threw back my head and laughed. Alice's question was out of the blue, but everything is funny when you're drunk. "No, but I thought about it once."

She smiled. "Have you ever seen Ambre and Rainn do their girl-on-girl show?" I shook my head.

"Of course, they're both straight. But you would not believe the attention they get when they do their girl-show. They can't touch, of course, but they do their best to come as close as they can without breaking the rules." She looked around. "Here, there aren't any rules. Want to have some fun?" She winked at me and then laughed. The song changed, and without a word, she grabbed my hand and headed for the floor.

She began to dance, a simple two-beat movement back and forth. I quickly got the hang of it, and mimicked her movements. She raised her arms and turned, and I let myself go in the music, reaching towards the lights, feeling the music reverberate in my chest. I felt hands on my waist and I danced myself into a circle, and saw Alice grinning at me.

"Did you wear anything good underneath?"

I laughed and nodded.

"Are you up for a show?" a gleam in her eye.

My grin widened and I nodded again.

She backed away and her expression changed, as if she had eyes for no one but me. She sidled in close, arms moving gently in the air, until they settled on my shoulders. She twisted her fingers into my hair, pulled me closer to her, lifting her chin towards me, then pulled my hair hard, forcing my face towards the ceiling.

I felt her hands move down to my arms and encircle me as we moved back and forth to the beat. I pulled my head away from her hands and looked her in the eye, smiling. I knew what she was trying to do, and the crowd of men gathering around us told me that she was succeeding.

She turned her mouth towards my ear. "Do you see them watching?"

I looked out of the corner of my eye, and amidst the flashing lights and bodies moving, I could see Edward, Jasper and the club manager seated at their table, eyes trained on us. Jasper's face was pained, and Edward's was colored with something I couldn't describe.

_You change your mind_

_Like a girl changes clothes…_

_I should know_

_That you're no good for me…_

Alice turned away, with her back to me, and I grabbed her right shoulder with my right hand, pulling her close against me. We undulated together, her left cheek pressed against my right, mouths open, eyes half-closed. I put my hands on her hips, and felt her hands on mine, hiking my skirt up slightly. We shifted back and forth, perfectly matching our bodies to the beat. I felt her hands leave mine, and in a split second she had turned to face me, pulling her shirt over her head. With a sly smile, she tossed it over her head into the crowd.

I threw back my head and laughed. The look on her face was so obviously a dare, and how could I not accept it?

I reached down, grabbing my t-shirt at the v-neck, and pulled. With a tear, the shirt split. The crowd around us cheered, and I laughed again. I tore the shirt the rest of the way off, revealing a bright blue bustier bra beneath. I twirled the tee shirt I'd just Hulk Hogan-ed over my head like a burlesque dancer before throwing it in Edward's general direction. I didn't even look to see if he saw it; I was watching Alice.

Alice walked two steps and grabbed a guy who had been watching our little performance. She began dancing with him, then reached under his arm to me. I moved towards her, sandwiching the man between us. We pumped against him, turning and moving, running our hands over his chest and back. He turned to face me, and I bent myself backwards, thrusting my hips and chest towards him. He bent farther towards my face, and I threw my head back. His lips grazed my neck before Alice pulled him back and spun him around to face her. She grabbed the hem of his Henley and pulled it up over his head. The drink he had been holding up over all of our heads spilled, drenching the closest observers. Alice and I both laughed, spreading the icy alcohol over our chests.

Sandwich Boy was in heaven. He alternately groped towards me, then Alice, trying to touch any part of us. We maneuvered around him, touching him, turning him, writhing against him. Alice pushed him behind her, moving towards me, grabbing my face in her hands, holding me an inch away from her, lips open, dancing with me.

The song ended, and Alice grabbed my hand, without a look at the half-naked, beer-drenched man on the dance floor, and we fled to the bar, laughing.

Alice bought me a shot and we downed them simultaneously.

"I am having so much fun!" she shouted over the music. I nodded and my eyes roamed the sitting area for Edward. He was watching me. Jasper and the manager were gone.

I elbowed Alice. "Jasper's not there."

"I know. He really likes it when I do that." She smiled cheerfully.

"He sure didn't look like he was enjoying himself."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "He'll be enjoying himself later." She threw back her head and laughed.

"Hey there!" I turned. Sandwich Boy was standing next to us at the bar, the wrinkled and drink-stained Henley back on his broad shoulders.

"Listen…" he held out a business card. "I thought maybe I could get your numbers." A smile.

Alice smiled sweetly at him, then reached over and put her arm around me.

"Sorry, I'm here with my _girlfriend._" She looked at him pointedly.

He pursed his lips and nodded. "OK, then. Well…" he turned to the bar to order a drink.

Alice rolled her eyes. "They always think we want them. They don't understand it's all for show."

We took our drinks and walked towards the banquette where Edward was sitting.

"It never fails." She shook her head. "They don't get that it's a performance; two women, stripping their clothes for each other, find a man, touch the man, feel the man, but he is not enough for them; they still seek each other, unable to deny their attraction. Even though he stands before them, available and willing, they prefer their own company."

I pondered this, the words taking time to work through my inebriation. "That's pretty deep, Alice."

She laughed as we sat down in the booth on either side of Edward.

Alice pecked him on the cheek. "Where did Jasper go?"

Edward didn't look at either one of us, eyes ahead on the dance floor. "I think he stepped out for a moment."

I slid closer to Edward and put my hand on his leg. "So, did you miss me while I was gone?"

He didn't answer, and his stare didn't waver from the dance floor.

"Hello?" I waved my hand in front of his face. He turned to stare at me, and the look of full-blown fury was scorching. I shrank back.

He started to move me towards the side of the booth. "Excuse us, Alice." He bit off the words.

Alice looked at me with wide eyes. She put her hand out and touched his arm. "Be careful, Edward." They exchanged a meaningful look before he stood and took my arm.

We walked without a word to the entrance of the VIP room of the club; when the door closed behind us, the muffled quiet was almost shocking. He continued towards the bar, nodded at the bartender before sliding a glass door open and walking through.

Beyond the door was a brick patio, which had been carved out of the side of the building. Several small tables lined one side of the patio, I walked to other side and leaned against the waist-high brick wall, looking down onto the street below. The line to get into the club stretched halfway around the block.

"Wow, Edward, looks like this place is going to be pretty popular." I turned to face him, but he was looking towards the downtown lights. After a moment, his eyes met mine. He started towards me. My heart began to race.

"Here. Take this." He dropped his jacket over my shoulders and turned, standing next to me, looking back out towards the city.

I dropped my eyes to my chest and remembered… _No shirt. Real classy, Bella._ I pulled the jacket close, zipping it up, grateful that it covered everything. Tears of embarrassment stung my eyes, and I blinked fiercely to keep them at bay. _Alcohol always has this effect on me…_

"I'm sorry, Edward. I guess I just got carried away with Alice…"

He sighed and looked down, closing his eyes. "Bella, how do you think I felt when I looked up from having a discussion with the club manager to see you and Alice going at each other like a couple of lipstick lesbians?"

My mouth dropped open in surprise. "I—I'm sorry, we were just having a little fun. We had a few drinks, and—"

He turned to face me. "Bella, I expect this kind of behavior when you are – working – but frankly, I didn't expect it here." He shook his head.

My anger surprised me. "What do you mean, 'I expect this kind of behavior?' I told you, Edward, Alice and I were just screwing around with some guy on the dance floor. When I looked up, you were too busy discussing business with the your club manager to even be concerned. I guess maybe we should have covered the ground rules before you decided to take me out on a date. Obviously—"

"Bella, please don't do this. I guess I was just surprised that you would…" he trailed off.

I waited for him to finish his thought, but he was obviously done. I turned so that I was facing him, and moved closer.

"I don't think that's why you're angry. You're angry because you're jealous."

He laughed, a short, humorless sound, but he continued to look at me. I moved closer still, not touching him, angling my body so that it was inches away from his. His eyes bored into mine.

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "You're angry… because it wasn't _you_ with me on the dance floor."

He didn't move. I don't know if he was even breathing. I moved closer, pressing my chest against his, my mouth next to his ear.

"You're angry… because you want me. And you can't have me." I bit his earlobe gently, then backed away and walked to the corner of the patio. _Where did this come from? Alcohol certainly gives me guts…_

Suddenly he was there. He turned me around, pushing my back against the bricks, leaning against me, crushing my mouth with his. I recovered my surprise and pushed my hands into his hair, pulling him against me in a long, fevered kiss. I opened my lips and he thrust his tongue into my mouth hungrily. I sucked the end of his tongue, and he moaned, shifting his hips against mine. I lifted my left leg and pulled him closer, feeling his hardness pressing between my legs. I sighed and his right hand moved down the side of my body to my leg, grasping the top of my thigh and thrusting against me again. My sigh was now a moan. His quiet growl sent shivers up my spine, and I bit his lower lip. He ran his hand under my skirt, skimming his hand over the contours of my ass before slipping his hand under the silken edge of my underwear, grasping my ass and pulling me impossibly closer. I threw my head back and moaned, his lips at my neck, underneath my ear, my jaw, his hands moving…

"Mr. Cullen?" I froze, and so did Edward. He stood up and looked over his shoulder towards the patio entrance where the bar manager stood.

"The Ward 4 councilman is here, and would like to speak with you. He's in the VIP area."

Edward nodded. "I'll be there in five minutes." He turned back to me. I readjusted my skirt, tugged on the bottom of the jacket, and wiped my lips.

"What are you doing to me?" His face was aghast.

I smiled slightly. "I'm not doing anything to you. You're doing this," I waved my hands to indicate him, "to yourself."

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then straightened up, adjusting his clothes, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll only be a minute."

I nodded.

"We have some things to discuss."

I nodded again. "I'll be waiting."

* * * * *

A/N: Wow, I got a little carried away with that one. Are you left feeling unfulfilled? So is Bella!

Lyrics from "Hot and Cold" by Katy Perry.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! I read every single review, and I appreciate all constructive criticism. I can't take myself too seriously; after all, I do this for fun. I love reviews like Alice loves attention at dance clubs.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Posting this one early, as I won't have time to do so tomorrow. Didn't think anyone would mind.**

**Shout out to AzureEyedI for being awesome.  
**

**WARNING: This chapter contains reference to alcohol use and mild lemons. If you don't like lemony goodness or overindulgence in alcohol… then you're reading the wrong fanfic, mate.**

**Chapter 11**

I swirled my fourth rum and Coke and looked back out over the patio. The lights of downtown seemed brighter than before, industrial fireflies giving off their cold beaconing glow. I checked my watch.

It had been almost an hour since Edward left, and I hadn't wanted to leave in case he came looking for me. I'd walked back into the VIP area and ordered another drink, but had come back out here immediately. I checked my watch again and decided to go inside and look for Alice.

I reentered the club and the bass assaulted my ears. The dance floor was much more crowded than before, and I had a difficult time negotiating my way around. I didn't see Alice, and I moved slowly towards the bar, which had patrons standing four deep in most areas. I craned my head but couldn't see the banquette where we had been sitting earlier; I pushed around two tall men and saw the top of Jasper's head. I pressed through the outer edge of the bar crowd and saw that he was sitting alone at the banquette, drink on the table before him. An odd feeling of relief washed through me and I sat down at the other end and scooted towards him.

"Hey, Jasper!"

He looked at me and nodded.

"Do you know where Edward is?"

He started to tell me something, but the music was so loud, he immediately gave up. He held up his hands in an 'I'm not sure' gesture. I nodded.

"What about Alice?"

He pointed to the middle of the dance floor, and after a moment I saw Alice's hair in the middle of a large crowd of dancers. Her hands were above her head, the strobe lights illuminating her in staccato beats. _I hope no one here has epilepsy. _

I looked back at Jasper, but his eyes had returned to watching the crowd of dancers before us. I scooted out of the banquette. "I'll be back," I mouthed, and he nodded with a small, polite smile.

I made my way towards the rest room, scanning the crowd as I walked. I passed the DJ booth, and saw him, standing against the wall, talking animatedly with a tall redhead. She laughed at something he said and moved in, hand on his chest, before backing up slightly and touching her hair. I moved closer to the other wall, continued down the hallway to the rest room, but he never looked away from her face.

I spent the next ten minutes in the rest room, half hoping that he would be gone when I walked out, half hoping that he would still be there, half hoping he would just be alone the next time I saw him. _How many halves do you have, Bella?_

I washed my hands, straightened my clothes and tried to smooth my hair, to no avail. I sighed, took a deep breath, and walked out of the restroom.

He was still standing there, this time with another dark-haired girl and a tall black man. I tried to catch Edward's eye as I walked by, but he was engrossed in his conversation. I checked my watch; it had been an hour and a half since he had left me on the patio.

I made my way to the bar to order my fifth drink, bumming a cigarette off of a man standing next to me.

"I hope this is your brand." He smiled at he lit it for me, and I returned the smile.

I inhaled carefully. "Right now, any cigarette is my brand."

"Can I buy you a drink?" he smiled again and moved closer.

I smiled back and shrugged my shoulders. "What are you having?"

"Long Island Iced Tea." I nodded, and he turned to the bartender.

A moment later he turned back, holding a glass and a shot, and handed them to me.

"Here, I bought a shot of Stoli for my friend, but he doesn't want it." A smile.

"Thanks!" I sipped the Long Island. He cocked his head to one side. "I've seen you before. Do you go to school around here?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No, I work… at a bar, but not this one." _Uh oh. What are the odds?_

"I'm Colin."

I nodded. "Irina."

He looked at me again, and recognition spread across his face. "Yeah! I thought I recognized you! You're the new girl at the Platinum!" He turned to tap his friend on the shoulder. "Hey! Do you remember that chick…"

I didn't hear the rest. I backed away from him, disappearing into the crowd.

* * * * *

I carried my drinks and my cigarette back through the VIP area and out to the patio. I breathed a sigh when I saw that the patio was still empty; I hadn't realized that I actually wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

I took a drink of my Long Island and poured the remainder of the shot into the glass. I tapped my cigarette, putting it to my lips, drawing in a long breath. The smoke incinerated my lungs, my chest afire from within, but I held on, determined to win out over the flaming beast. I released the smoke in a steady stream, proud of my control.

_Too bad you don't have control over anything worthwhile in your life._

I closed my eyes, not wanting to deal with the emotions warring within me.

_Edward bailed on you, you worthless skank. You shouldn't be surprised. In fact, you should be surprised that it took him this long to blow you off. _

I gritted my teeth. I knew that this was a business function for Edward, that he probably wouldn't be here at all if he didn't need face time with the investors. Another pull on my cigarette, another drink from my glass.

_You acted like a stripper, not the date of an important businessman._

I was just having fun! It's a dance club, that's what people are _supposed_ to do! Look at Alice; she's still in there, having a great time, not caring what Jasper or Edward think….

Alice is a businesswoman; it's no big deal if she cuts loose every once in a while. Maybe if you had a job that was a little more corporate in nature…

Edward knows what I do, yet he still brought me here! And he took me to lunch at the country club, he can't be that embarrassed about me… can he? Another drink.

_The country club was empty; there was no one there to see you with him. He brought you out here, away from everyone else, and kissed you. Maybe if you weren't a stripper, he might actually want to introduce you to his business associates. _

I slumped my shoulders. I hated trying to argue with myself, especially when alcohol was involved. Alcohol softened the edge of reason, made the blackness inviting, the pool of misery warm and comforting.

The misery was what I could not deny: I was not the kind of woman that a man like Edward Cullen wanted. I was running from my life, trying to reinvent myself into something I wasn't. I wasn't even good enough for Mike, how could I expect to have anything of substance with someone like Edward? The only power I had was when I pretended to have strength, dancing provocatively for a man that saw me as an object.

_Camille Paglia would wring my neck if she could see me behaving like this…_

I slid down to the cold concrete floor, cigarette forgotten, drink still in my hand, and closed my eyes. The blackness lapped at my toes, and I smiled a little. It was always so warm in the dark.

* * * * *

"Bella, are you all right?"

It was Edward's voice, but I couldn't see him. I turned my head, but still, only blackness.

"Bella! Can you hear me?"

"She's drunk." Another voice.

I turned my head back the other way, then realized the reason I couldn't see anything was because my eyes were closed. I snapped them open, blinking in the sudden light.

I was still sitting on the ground on the patio, and my ass suddenly felt very cold. I tried to stand but had a difficult time making my legs work.

Hands underneath my arms, lifting. Cool air against my wet legs.

"Bella, how much have you had to drink?" Edward's voice again, calm in my ear.

I closed my eyes. Four? No, more than that. Five? Yes. Oh, wait, did the shots count as separate drinks? I poured one shot into my drink; was that one drink or two?

I frowned as I tried to work out this problem, then just gave up and shook my head.

I felt myself moving, and I couldn't figure out how, since I wasn't moving my legs. I looked down to see the remains of my drink on the ground where I'd been sitting. _That explains the wet on my legs. So I hadn't peed myself. _ The ground began moving beneath my feet, and I immediately felt sick. I tensed and breathed deeply. A door opened and we were inside; a moment or two later another door opened and my eardrums were assaulted by bass. I kept my eyes closed and tried not to concentrate on the movement I was feeling.

"Should we take her down the lift, or the back stairs?" The other voice again.

"The back stairs. I don't want anyone seeing her like this." Edward's voice.

A door opened into a stairwell, and I felt myself descending. At the bottom a door opened and I breathed in the cool night air.

"Bella, are you OK?" I took another deep breath and opened my eyes. My surroundings weren't spinning, and I thought I could stand on my own. I nodded.

"My car." Edward helped me into the Volvo. I leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes. I felt the seatbelt click into place and Edward shut the door. A moment later his door closed and the car moved. He adjusted the heater and then the stereo; the sound of a string quartet drifted from the speakers. I sighed and drifted off.

* * * * *

I don't know what penetrated my subconscious first, the headache or the dehydration. I had experienced enough hangovers to know that I needed three Advil, a quart of water and some eggs in my system.

I opened my eyes and saw that I was lying on my futon, covered up with my blankets. I stayed still for a moment, trying to play back last night, remembering where I'd been and what I'd done.

Appetizers with Edward. _Check._

Dinner. _Check._

Whisky opening. _Check._

Dancing with Alice. _Check._

Making out with Edward on the patio. _Check-fucking-mate._

After that it was fuzzy, and I had a feeling that I didn't _want _to know what had transpired.

Brief flashes of Edward, the Volvo, and the stairs up to my apartment. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and lifted the sheets to look.

I was wearing my blue bra and the skirt I'd been wearing last night. It appeared that Edward had decided not to take advantage of my inebriation. Half of me was relieved; the other half disappointed.

I crawled off the futon and into the bathroom, checking for signs of vomit. Nothing. A small sigh of relief. I saw Edward's jacket on the floor; I must have taken it off after I got home last night. I held it to my nose, but all traces of his fragrance were gone, replaced with the smell of dried booze and stale cigarette smoke. I held back a gag and turned back to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I caught a whiff of my hair and decided to take a shower right away. _I should have that cleaned for him. Along with Alice's clothes. _I remembered that I'd Hulked her t-shirt. _Well, I'll have the skirt cleaned, anyway._

Fifteen minutes later, scrubbed clean and dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, I wandered into the kitchen, hoping to find that eggs had miraculously appeared inside the fridge. I noticed a card on the small table next to the door. I picked it up.

_Call me tomorrow when you get up._

—_Edward _

I reached for my cell and dialed the phone number he'd written on the back of his business card. He picked up on the second ring.

"Edward Cullen." _Was he ever _not_ businesslike?_

"Hi, it's Bella." I paused, unsure of what to say next. "Um, I got your note."

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"A bit hung over, but not too bad. Listen, I'm sorry—"

He cut me off. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Um, no, I just got out of the shower and was debating whether or not I should eat something."

"Would you like to meet me for coffee? At the café?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you there in a half an hour."

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later I was sitting in my truck, parked in front of the WiFi café. _Someday maybe I'll actually bother to learn the name._

I waited until I saw the Volvo pull into a parking spot. I got out and stood by the door, waiting.

"Good morning, Bella." I tried reading his face, but his expression revealed nothing. He hugged me as he had last night when he'd picked me up at my apartment. _How could he not be repulsed by my behavior last night?_

He held the door for me and I walked inside. He motioned to the table by the window, and asked me for my order.

Five minutes later he sat down across from me, two cups of coffee and two bagels with butter and cream cheese. I smiled wryly.

"You don't happen to have anything to spike the coffee? A little Jamieson perhaps?" I rubbed my temples, wishing the Advil would kick in already.

He smiled. "Didn't you have enough last night?" There was no reproach in the smile, only an edge of teasing.

_Not nearly enough of what I really wanted._ "I suppose so." A sigh.

I stirred my coffee. "Well, I wanted to apologize. I let myself get a little carried away with the alcohol. I try not to do that, as a rule, but…" I shook my head, not wanting to finish.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bella… what were you going to say?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

"Bella." He put his knife down and looked into my eyes. I stared back; his seemed lighter brown today, with flecks of green. "If you have something to say, then it's important. Please continue."

"You aren't going to let it go, are you?" I asked, hopeful.

He shook his head with a smile.

I sighed. "Sometimes I tend to drink a little more when I'm feeling down about something." _No need to go into graphic detail._

"So you were upset about something last night?" He prodded.

I shrugged and took a drink of my coffee. "I thought you weren't coming back."

"I wanted to apologize for last night." He said this before I could say anything else.

"For what?"

"For leaving you by yourself while I attended to business."

I shrugged. "It's OK."

"No, it's not." His brow furrowed, and he looked at the table. "I left you alone for almost two hours. Anything could have happened to you…" He shook his head and looked up at me, eyes piercing.

"We had a difficult time with the zoning board when we were working on the club, and the Ward councilman was instrumental in helping us work out an acceptable compromise. He is someone that we want to have on our side, and it was imperative that I discuss a few other issues with him last night. He can be very… _demanding_. We need to maintain an excellent relationship with him, as we have several other projects in the works, and he holds sway on the council.

I smiled. "If he's so big on the bar scene, maybe you should offer him a deal on one of the new lofts you're building. That's all in the 4th Ward, right? He's close to the action and looks dedicated to his constituency."

Edward looked thoughtful. "That's not a bad idea, Bella." He sipped his coffee. "At any rate, there is no excuse for leaving you alone for so long… it's just the explanation. I am very sorry."

"So you didn't blow me off because I was acting like a club kid with Alice?" I took a bite of bagel, relieved.

He laughed. "No, not at all. I admit that I overreacted to your and Alice's little stunt, but it was because I was nervous about the media being there."

"You didn't want them seeing the girl you brought taking her shirt off on the dance floor." I felt myself cringing inwardly as I remembered our little show.

He shook his head, smiling. "No, not really. Well, I admit, I hoped that no cameras were capturing that moment… but I was more concerned with the columnist from the Entertainment section of the Courier being impressed enough to write a feature on the opening."

"Which one was that?"

He cocked his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I walked by you on the way to the restroom and saw you talking to several people. Which one was the columnist?"

"Kate Brown."

"The redhead?"

"Yes, I believe she has red hair." No trace of anything but honesty. _He really hadn't noticed her gorgeous body, her flawless skin, the way she watched him?_

I furrowed my brow and took another bite of my bagel.

"What's the matter?"

I shook my head. "It just seems like one minute you were pissed off that I was stripping on the dance floor with Alice, and the next you were turned on by it, practically attacking me on the patio. I just don't get it."

It was his turn to shake his head. "I don't know what it is, Bella. There is something about you that intrigues me. I cannot put my finger on why I am so drawn to you… but I am."

I smiled and tossed my hand in what I hoped was a flippant gesture. "All the boys say that, Edward." My heart rate increased twofold.

He leaned forward in his chair. "I don't know what it is about you…" he trailed off, eyes trained on my face. I watched him watching me, his eyes, his lips. I licked my lips and picked up my coffee, busying myself to keep from reaching across the table towards him. _How is it that he keeps doing this to me?_

He straightened. "So, I would like to make up for my transgression. Would you have dinner with me?"

I looked at him warily. "Where?"

He shrugged. "How about my cabin?"

"OK, sounds good."

"We'd better get going, then."

I checked my watch. "It's only noon, Edward."

He smiled. "It's a three-hour drive to the cabin. I thought perhaps we could relax for a while before dinner."

I shook my head. "I can't. I'm covering Rosalie's shift for her tonight."

"Why don't you just blow it off?"

I looked at him, surprised. "Well, I promised Alice and Rose that I would."

"I'm sure I could call Alice and she'd find someone else to cover."

I frowned. "I need the money, Edward. I'm not doing this because shaking my ass for horny truckers gets me off." _Geez, dude, get a clue!_

"How much will you make tonight?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, Saturdays are supposed to be busy, so probably two-fifty."

"If I gave you five hundred dollars, would you blow off tonight and come to my cabin for the weekend?"

I bristled, shame and anger shooting through me. "I barely know you, and you're offering me five hundred bucks to come spend the weekend with you? You don't think that sounds maladjusted?" I shook my head.

He looked startled, and I realized immediately that he hadn't meant to offend me. "No, I just meant, if you need the money… I thought you might rather spend the time with me than work at the club, especially if it's something you don't like to do…" he trailed off uncertainly.

I was angry. I couldn't help it. _Does this guy have some kind of Pretty Woman complex going? No fear of heights, just strippers?_

He sat, looking down at his coffee cup, grown cold. "I just… I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I seem to be saying that a lot to you, don't I?" A small, humorless smile.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You know, I think we've both got some major issues to work through before this," I waved my hands back and forth between us, "has the slightest chance of working out."

He nodded but didn't say anything.

I picked up my purse. "Thank you for the breakfast."

I walked out and got in my truck, my thoughts in a jumble as I waited for a clearing in the traffic. When I pulled away, he was still staring down into his cold cup of coffee.

* * * * *

A/N: Boy, Edward is really going to need to divest himself of this looking-at-relationships-as-business-transactions-thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**OK, to answer a few questions: Yes, Edward is human. But I like the idea of light-brown/topaz/dark honey colored eyes, so that's what they are. This is explained in ****Chapter 9 ****through this exchange:**

I gasped, light-headed from his scent and his sudden closeness. He pulled back and I looked into his eyes. "Your eyes look… different. They're more brown today."_ Brain filter was definitely unengaged._

He shrugged. "Some days they're brown, some days they're almost gold. Depends on my mood… and what I'm wearing."_ I wonder what they look like when you aren't wearing anything at all…_

**Bella and Edward are both somewhere around 22-23 years of age.**

**Chapter**** 12**

I really needed to do laundry, and my apartment could use a thorough cleaning, but I found myself sitting on the floor in my living room knitting and trying to relieve the last vestiges of my hangover. I was fairly accomplished at the knit stitch, but my purl stitches still looked odd. I decided to stick with what I was good at, knitting every row, back and forth. I could tell that I'd been stressed; the stitches I'd knit over the past hour had graduated from tight, split stitches to freer, looser stitches that hung nicely on the needle.

I took a nap around three, hoping to stave off the sleepiness, since I knew I'd be at work until at least two AM. I got myself ready and drove to the club, stopping for a fast food sandwich on the way. I was determined to avoid the café at all costs.

Alice wasn't in yet, so I dressed downstairs, then practiced with a few new tracks at the pole downstairs.

I finished my hair and makeup and headed upstairs to earn some money.

* * * * *

Halfway through my shift I stepped out of the side door for a cigarette. The dark, vinyl sided building was ugly in the light of day. It was almost intriguing at night, when lit up by neon and seen through the haze of inebriation and lust. The white sign above the stainless-steel front doors flashed _"Platinum,"_ bathing the sidewalk in an eerie glow.

I smiled to myself; this whole thing was so _not_ Edward. What was the draw? Obviously, the money was here, but if he were so highly principled, why did he agree to do this at all? Alice had given me the impression that Edward bore the brunt of the responsibility for which projects their company pursued. I was willing to bet that if he'd wanted to, he could have put his foot down and there would have been no further discussion on the matter.

Was it all about the money? He couldn't say no because it was too lucrative? Or was there an appeal that he didn't want to address? What was it that he'd said to me the other day; something about being turned on by something wrong?

A slow smile began to spread across my face as an idea took shape. I stubbed out my cigarette and walked back into the club.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later I'd talked to Alice and I was sitting on the couch in the dressing area with my cell phone.

"Edward Cullen."

"Hi, Edward, it's Bella."

"Hello, Bella." No sign of surprise.

"I am going to ask Alice if she minds if I knock off a few hours early, since two extra girls showed up for work tonight. If you hadn't made any plans, I thought we might get together." _Holding my breath…_

Nothing.

"Hello?" _Did I lose the connection?_

"Yes, Bella, I'm here. I just finished up some work at the office, and I'm on the way to have drinks with Emmett."

"Oh. OK." _Why did this depress me so much?_ "Well, maybe another time, then."

"Why don't you meet us?"

My heart skipped a beat, and if I had been standing I would have jumped up and down. I struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. "Sure, that sounds fine."

"Let me check with Emmett, and I'll call you back."

We hung up, and I jumped to my feet, squeeing like a fangirl. I rushed to Alice's office. "Do you have anything I can wear on a date with Edward?" Panting from the exertion of my squeeing.

She gave me a huge grin. "Where are you going?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, he's supposed to have drinks with Emmett but he's calling him right now to find out where I should meet them."

Alice furrowed her brow. "Rose took off tonight so that she and Emmett could go out… I wonder why he's meeting Edward instead."

I shrugged. "Dunno. Where do you think they're going?"

Her response was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Emmett has had a change of plans, so I won't be meeting him after all. Perhaps I could pick you up at the club in an hour?"

"Sure. I'll be at the bar."

I closed my phone and jumped up and down. Alice laughed, then shook her head. "Remember what I told you, Bella; Edward has a tendency to put his work before everything – and everyone – else. I love my brother, but… well, just be careful."

I nodded.

She jumped up. "Now, let's find you something to _wear_!"

* * * * *

Half an hour later I was in a pair of Alice's skinny jeans, a V-neck sweater and my black heels. I promised Alice that I'd get them cleaned when I was done, and she waved me off. "Just have a good time." She smiled.

"Actually, I need the name of a good dry cleaner. I need to have Edward's jacket cleaned for him… after last night." I grimaced. She wrote a number of a piece of paper and handed it to me, laughing. "That good, huh?"

I wrinkled my nose. "You have _no_ idea…"

I counted my money. After tipping Eric and Tanya, I'd clear one-twenty for four hours of work. Not bad. I slipped fifty bucks into the pocket of my jeans, put my gear in my bag, locked my locker and headed upstairs.

I walked upstairs and took a seat at the bar, passing fifteen to Tanya when she stopped in front of me. "I'm off for the rest of the night."

She nodded and gave me back five dollars. "You aren't working the whole shift, so I'll give you a discount." She winked at me. I smiled back and ordered a Long Island, tipping her five bucks. She shook her head, but smiled and pocketed the money. _Bartenders are always good to have on your side._

Drink in hand, I walked over to Eric to let him know I was out of the rotation, and dropped his fifteen on the console. He nodded and told me to have a good night. I turned to walk back to the bar, and saw him.

Edward was walking through the club, eyes scanning the crowd. Angel made a beeline towards him and met him at the bar. He smiled and shook his head, and she patted his arm and walked away. _She offered him a dance, and he declined._ I smiled. _Bet he wouldn't turn me down._

I moved away from the DJ booth and around the stage when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Hey! You wanna dance for us?"

Instinctively I jerked away. "Please, no touching."

"Hey! Irina!" I looked down to see Colin, the guy from the Whisky last night. "I bought you a drink last night, remember? You walked away before you could thank me." He grinned and turned to his friends. They grinned back at him, then at me, gauging my response.

I cocked my head to one side. "Thank you."

I started away again, but his hand was once again on my arm. "Wait a minute! How about a dance?" I stopped, scanning the crowd for Laurent, but didn't see him at his usual post. I backed away from Colin's touch.

"I'm off duty. Perhaps another time."

"Is there a problem here?" I expected to see James, but was surprised to find Edward standing at my side.

"Yeah. One of the girls here," Colin jerked his thumb at me, "is refusing to dance. And I already tipped her," he sneered.

Edward's face was impassive. "I'm sorry, but Irina is not on the clock. Perhaps another girl is available."

Colin's face was a pout. "No. I already paid _her_."

"You didn't 'pay' me. You bought me a drink last night, that's it."

Edward looked at me, then at Colin. "James?"

James had materialized at Edward's shoulder. "Yes, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward removed a large bill from his money clip and handed it to James. "Please make certain that these gentleman have satisfactory company. If there are any issues, perhaps Laurent will be able to assist them." He looked pointedly at James, who nodded. _If they don't act properly, kick their asses out._

"Gentlemen." He nodded to Colin and his friends before taking my arm and walking towards the bar.

"How could you let them…" too mad to finish my sentence, I fumed.

"Sometimes in business you have to do things that you'd prefer not to. I guarantee that fifty dollars towards a couple of dances will mean they spend at least that much on tipping the girls, and double that in alcohol. And, most likely, they'll return in future." He shrugged. "It's an investment."

"But what if they try to grab one of the other girls like they grabbed me?"

"Laurent and James will both be keeping a close eye on them. They won't dare touch one of the girls now." He sipped the drink that Tanya had placed in front of him. I quickly pulled a twenty out of my pocket. He put his hand on mine and shook his head.

I looked him in the eye. "My treat. It's the least I can do." _I'll be damned if I'm always on the receiving end of his generosity…_

He thought better of declining, and instead murmured thanks. We sat at the bar for a few more minutes, finishing our drinks.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

I nodded. "Let me grab my bag from downstairs."

* * * * *

He followed me to my apartment so I could drop off my truck. I'd offered to drive but he'd declined, laughing. "I prefer to drive the speed limit at minimum." I'd rolled my eyes, of course.

"So what would you like to do?" He looked over at me from behind the wheel. _If you only knew what I wanted to do to you…_

"Um…" I checked my watch. "It's almost midnight. Most restaurants are closed, and I don't really feel like going to a bar." I shrugged. "What did you have in mind?"

"Would you like to see my place?"

I smiled. "Sure."

A few minutes later Edward pulled the Volvo up to an entrance in the side of a large warehouse. He pressed a code into the keypad and the steel gate swung open, and he drove down into a large, well-lit parking garage. He parked the car in a numbered spot, and turned off the car. I reached behind me to grab my duffel, but he was faster: with a smile he pulled my bag from the back seat. We walked towards a glass entrance door, requiring another code for entry. He held the door for me and we walked towards the large, open elevator. Once inside, he entered another code and the mirrored doors slid closed.

"I never would have expected this building to look like this. From the outside it appears to be an old warehouse.."

He smiled. "This is the first project that our company ever worked on. It was a very dilapidated warehouse when we got hold of it. It wasn't an easy process to turn it into ten high-end loft apartments."

I nodded. "I heard you discussing this at dinner last night."

He looked at me, a slight smile on his lips. "You were paying attention?"

I shrugged. "Well, up until you started discussing retention rates and cost projections." I wrinkled my nose. "That's when I started looking for Alice and the bar."

He laughed and shook his head. "You continue to surprise me, Bella."

I smiled. "I hope that's a good thing."

He watched me in the mirrored doors. "It's definitely a good thing."

The doors behind us slid open to reveal a foyer. I turned, feeling a bit disoriented.

Edward smiled. "Each tenant has his or her own private entrance right off of the elevator. When you enter your code into the keypad, you can only go to that floor. If you're visiting, you call up to the apartment, the tenant sends the elevator down and it comes up to that specific floor. Jasper had the system designed specifically for this project."

I nodded, impressed.

Edward held the elevator open and I walked into the entryway. He passed through into a hall, turning on lights. He turned left, and I followed him into the kitchen.

The galley style kitchen was finished in gold and brown granite, set off by the simple Shaker-style cherry cabinets. Recessed lights cast a warm glow on the bright golden walls and immaculate stainless appliances.

"Here, let me take that for you." Edward placed my bag on the end of the counter on my right. "Would you like something to drink?" I nodded. He opened a wine chiller concealed beneath the counter and selected a bottle. "I had the kitchen designed to be smaller, since I don't do much entertaining. I needed the space for other things." He placed two glasses, a corkscrew and the wine bottle on the counter next to me, then slid open a shoji door above the counter on my right. I realized it was a pass-through to a counter on the other side of the wall. He walked out of the kitchen and I followed. He flipped a light switch and I gasped.

I looked up to the oak-beamed ceiling that rose thirty feet above where we stood. The walls were exposed red brick, with three large windows breaking up the expanse of brick that ran, floor to ceiling, along the wall to the right. Directly next to us was a baby-grand piano with a glossy mahogany finish. One large window dominated the wall at the end of the room. Golden hardwood floors stretched through the entire room, covered here and there by Oriental rugs. A large fireplace trimmed in slate with a hewn oak mantel commanded the far right corner of the room, several large chairs clustered around. To the left was a staircase that rose along the wall to the floor above us.

"Here." Edward handed me a glass of white wine, and I turned to stare at him.

"This is amazing! Not at all what I expected."

He flashed me an amused smile. "Really? What did you expect?"

I shrugged. "I figured you for the austere, modern look, white couches that no one ever sits on, modern art that no one can understand."

He laughed. "I'd reserve judgment if I were you; you haven't seen the entire place yet."

"True."

I sipped my wine and ran my hand along the top of the piano. "Do you play?"

He nodded. "A little." He sat down on the bench and I stood behind him. He lifted the key cover and moved the protective felt off of the keys, then ran his hands along them. His fingers picked out a few chords, then began with a sweet, sad melody that I thought I recognized.

I closed my eyes and began to hum.

He stopped. "You know this one?"

I smiled. "Tori Amos has an angsty appeal for tormented suburban teenaged girls. 'Under The Pink' was my second favorite album of hers."

He nodded, impressed. "She's a very talented piano player. I don't care much for her lyrics, but her melodies are interesting."

I shrugged. "I don't know, I think she's got a knack with words." He started playing the melody again and this time I sang along.

_He said that behind my eyes I'm hiding_

_And he tells me I pushed him away_

_That my heart's been hard to find_

I took a sip of my wine and he turned, appraising me with one eyebrow raised. "I didn't know you could sing."

I swallowed my wine. "You never asked."

He nodded and closed the piano, then turned on the bench. He reached for my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I stood between his knees with his hands on my waist, thumbs caressing my stomach. I felt my heart beat frenetically as his eyes took me in, molten honey roving over my body. I shivered a little and he raised his eyes to mine.

He smiled and his hands moved to my hips, pressing into my flesh lightly. I closed my eyes and exhaled, then took another sip from my glass.

"How's the wine?" he asked in a quiet voice.

I looked down at him and nodded, not trusting my voice to formulate a coherent response.

His hand reached up to push my hair back over my shoulder, fingers brushing against the skin of my neck. I shivered again, and heard myself hum in response.

"Do you like that?"

I sighed. "Mmmm-hmmm."

His thumb was gently rubbing in a small circle beneath my ear. I leaned my head back and he traced his finger around and down my throat to the hollow between my collarbones. I felt both of his hands on my shoulders as he drew me closer, placing a soft, warm kiss at the base of my throat.

"Mmmm. You do smell divine, Bella."

I reached behind him and placed my wineglass on the piano, pressing myself against him, feeling the solidity of his body against mine. I wrapped my arms loosely around his shoulders and pushed my hips forward to meet him. He moved his hands again to my hips, sliding them down the tops of my thighs, then around to my ass, squeezing gently. I shifted my position and felt his hardness pressing against my legs. He sighed and closed his eyes, his mouth moving to the V of my sweater, his lips moving lightly over the tops of my breasts with the same gentle kisses.

I pushed my fingers into his hair, pulling gently. He moaned quietly in response.

I felt the flush of my lust sweep through me. I took a deep breath to clear my head and took a small step backward.

He looked up at me with a smile and reached for my hand.

"Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house."

* * * * *

A/N: Lyrics from "Baker Baker" by Tori Amos. Angsty teenager, indeed.

Seriously sour lemons ahoy in the next chapter. It will be worth the wait. Promise. Just ask my beta, AzureEyedI


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**AzureEyedI, I love you from the bottom of my hobolicious heart.**

**WARNING: Intense lemony goodness ahead. (I know. It's about damn time.)**

**Chapter**** 13**

Edward picked up my wine glass and stood, clasping my hand in his, leading me in the direction of the kitchen. I realized that the massive granite counter in the kitchen extended through the wall into a small alcove area, with stools underneath. The shoji door was a pass-through so that guests sitting at the counter on the outside could still converse with anyone in the kitchen.

Edward reached underneath the countertop, pulled out one of the stools and motioned for me to sit. I settled into my seat, and as he walked behind me he put his hand lightly on my shoulder, running it underneath my hair, brushing against the back of my neck with his fingertips. I shivered. He smiled slyly at my response and walked into the kitchen.

Edward pushed the wine bottle through the pass-through and moved between the refrigerator, pantry and cabinets. I watched as he washed a handful of strawberries and cut up a pear, spreading the slices with bleu cheese and putting them on a green glass plate. I pushed my wineglass towards him and he looked up mid-slice.

"Can I have some pear for my wine?" I smiled. _Pears are my new favorite fruit._

He returned my smile. "Of course." He cut a slice in half and dropped it into my glass, then held out another piece for me to taste. I leaned forward and opened my mouth, and he placed the pear on my tongue, letting his finger caress my lower lip as I closed my mouth to chew. My pulse quickened as I watched him intently. He smiled again at my obvious reaction.

He placed a handful of water crackers on the plate and slid it across the counter next to me. He walked around to sit beside me, picking up the bottle and refilling first my wineglass, then his own. He turned toward me, handing me my glass.

"Thank you." I picked up a strawberry and popped it into my mouth. He watched me as I chewed and I felt myself flush, my self-consciousness warring with my desire. I looked down.

I felt his fingertip underneath my chin. "Don't hide. I like watching you."

My flush deepened and he smiled. I looked up, into his eyes, feeling the warmth spread throughout my body. _The desire is winning._

I picked up a cheese-laden pear and bit, surprised by the balance of the sweet pear and the sharper bleu cheese. I nodded while I chewed. "This is really good."

He smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

Edward held up his wineglass. "A toast."

I picked up my glass.

He eyed me carefully, a beautiful crooked smile on his lips. "To the adventure of the unknown."

I returned his smile as we clinked our glasses.

He stood. "Now that you have had a little sustenance, perhaps we should finish our tour?"

I slipped off my shoes and stood, picking up my wineglass. He took my hand and pulled me up, into his arms. I was breathless with his closeness as he turned me towards the living room before releasing me, taking my hand once again.

_This guy really knows how to mess with a girl._

We strolled through the living room, hand in hand. I looked to my left and saw a row of matted prints lining the wall.

"These photographs are amazing. They're similar to the ones in the dressing area at the club. And in Alice's office."

"She preferred the nature scenes to the nudes, I would imagine."

"How did you know?"

"I gave them to her. For her birthday last year."

I turned back to the photos, admiring the shading and lines. "A fallen tree?"

He nodded. "A close up on the base of a cedar, actually. I took it last summer."

The shock on my face was apparent. "You _took_ these? Yourself?"

"Don't look so surprised, Bella. It's insulting." The warmth of his smile softened his chide.

"I—I guess I never figured you for a photographer." I stopped. "So, does that mean you took the nudes, too?"

He laughed. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I used an agency to locate the models. I can assure you, it was all quite professional."

I smiled at him. "I'm sure it was. Everything about you is so _professional_."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

I moved to stand in front of him and put one of my hands around his neck, drawing him close. "As long as you can learn to relax every once in a while, it's not a problem." _I can help you with that. I can be very unprofessional…_

He bent his face towards mine, and I felt the heat of his breath and the scent of his skin as he touched his lips to mine gently, then again, and again. I could feel his urgency building and I parted my lips, giving way to the gentle pressure of his tongue, caressing it with mine, biting gently on his lower lip. His resultant moan nearly sent me over the threshold of reason, but I contained myself and pulled away yet again.

"Whew… maybe we'd better finish the tour… or we probably won't finish the tour."

He licked his lips and nodded. "Right this way."

We climbed a long flight of stairs that wound along the wall up to the second floor. Several small alcoves were carved out of the long expanse of wall, each with a different sculpture, each spotlighted by small halogen lights. I stopped at the last sculpture, a figure of hammered and twisted metal with two faces; one angelic and one demonic in nature.

"Do you like it?" He traced a finger over the top of the figurine. "It's a metaphor. Good versus evil, the struggle of man to overcome his nature and nurture and conform to the ideals of society. What do you think?"

I cocked my head to one side, regarding the sculpture. "I could lie and say I think it's very intriguing… but honestly? I hope you didn't pay anything for this."

He laughed. "It's art, Bella. Art always costs something."

I turned to him and raised my eyebrow. "I think society needs to get back to a stricter definition of art."

Edward smiled, then opened a door on the right and flipped a switch. I followed him inside.

The room was large and square, with a dusky olive color on the walls. A flat screen television was mounted on the wall to the left, with a brown leather sofa before it. A sizeable window was trimmed in cherry, and a cherry desk was situated at the far of the room, facing the door. A matching credenza sat behind it against the far wall, and two chairs sat in front. The furniture styling was simple, but beautiful.

"I take it you are a Frank Lloyd Wright fan?" I asked.

He nodded. "Arts and Crafts is possibly the most influential architectural movement of the twentieth century."

"Stickley or Greene and Greene?" I asked.

"Stickley."

I nodded. _He did have good taste, I had to give him that._

I jumped up and down lightly on the lush Berber carpet that spanned the room.

Edward looked at me with an amused smile.

"Sorry. This carpet is cushier than my bed." I smiled.

He smiled back. "As you have no doubt guessed, this is my office. My bedroom is upstairs."

I took a sip of wine as he led the way back out into the hallway and up the stairs to the third floor.

Edward's bedroom had the same carpet and wall color as his office, with a King-sized cherry bed commanding the far wall. The right-hand corner of the room was taken up by a gas fireplace. A small sound system sat on a wall-mounted shelf between the bed and the fireplace. Instead of a window, there was a sliding glass door. I walked over and looked out to see a small balcony beyond.

"Very nice."

I sensed him behind me, felt his breath against my hair, felt his lips against the back of my head, felt him murmur against me. "Mmmmm. Very nice, indeed."

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

I thought for a moment. "I have something that I would like to do…"

He turned me gently, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up into his eyes. _Is he ready for this?_

I smiled at him. "I have an idea."

He didn't say anything, just kept watching my face.

I continued before I could lose my nerve. "There's something that I would like to do… for you."

A smile began to spread slowly across his face. He nodded and kissed me, and my heart began to beat an insane tempo. I kissed him swiftly in return and backed away towards the door.

"I have to get my bag. Why don't you go get one of those chairs from your office and meet me back up here in about ten minutes?"

* * * * *

I surveyed myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door; black lace bra and g-string, thigh-high stockings and garters, black high heels. I pulled my hair up on top of my head with a clip from my bag and touched up my lipstick. I smiled in the mirror and stretched my legs in anticipation.

I walked out of the bathroom into the dimly-lit bedroom. He had turned on the fireplace and I gravitated towards the light and warmth as if I were a moth. He had refilled my wineglass; it sat on the mantel. I picked it up and took a drink, then stood facing the fire. I heard him walk through the door and set something down; it was one of the chairs from his office. I said nothing, just watched from the corner of my eye as he placed it on the floor facing the fireplace.

"Turn on the music. The 'Stripping' playlist." I motioned to the iPod I'd placed on the bed.

Quietly he moved towards the dock and turned on the music.

"Sit down," I ordered, and he sat down in the chair without a word.

I walked towards the iPod and selected the first track I wanted to hear. I closed my eyes and felt the music, pictured him sitting, waiting for me…

_He wants me._

I opened my eyes and looked at him, sitting in the chair, waiting for me, eyes expectant, roving over my body. I walked towards him, moved around to the back of the chair. I bent down to whisper in his ear.

"The only rule is… I can touch you, but you can't touch me. Not until I say so. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

I ran my fingers gently along the back of his neck, and he bent his head down. I tugged slightly, and his head snapped back. I raked my fingernails lightly through his hair, and he sighed quietly, eyes closed.

I drew down his neck and along his shoulder with one finger. I circled around and stood before him, finger in the center of his chest. I used my leg to separate his knees, and he spread them gladly. I dropped to my knees and leaned close, against the chair, reaching for the buttons on his white shirt. He reached to help me, but I gently pushed his hands away.

"No touching me."

He let his hands fall to his sides.

I unbuttoned each button, pulling his shirttail out of his pants, then slid his arms out and tossed the shirt to the floor. I pulled at his undershirt, running my hands underneath, across the chiseled chest, the smooth skin, feeling him shudder. I pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.

I looked at him, the rise and fall of his chest, his neck, his face, lips parted in desire. I licked my lips and he mimicked the movement. Again I smiled to myself, feeling the jolt of my lust.

I leaned toward him, face an inch from his chest, breathing him in. I moved around his entire chest, allowing my nose to graze his nipples. He shuddered again, and I raised my eyes to his, flicked out my tongue, rolling it over his left nipple. He moaned and rolled his head back slightly. I smiled to myself and moved up to the hollow at the base of his throat, kissing very gently before moving up to his jaw line. I felt him clench his jaw, and looked to see him clenching and unclenching his fists.

I moved up to whisper in his ear. "Is it hard to keep from touching me?"

He nodded, his breathing heavy.

I dropped my hands to his thighs.

"What about now?"

He moaned in response.

I bit his earlobe.

"And now?"

He growled.

I laughed quietly, then pushed his knees back together and moved forward. I stood over him, knees locked, breasts an inch from his beautiful lips…

I struggled to hold on to my control.

I ran my hands down my sides to the tops of my thighs and leaned forward, placing my hands on the back of the chair.

"I think I figured out what the problem is, Edward." I pulled myself forward slightly, my breasts resting against his chest.

He didn't answer.

"You are a good boy, Edward. You've always been a good boy." I pushed away and walked around behind him again. I leaned down to whisper into his ear again.

"You don't think it's right to look at women as objects." I ran my hands over his chest, down to his waist. I slipped my fingers into his waistband. He moaned.

"Mmmm…" His response was lovely. "But when you saw me dancing for you, you couldn't help yourself." The heat of my own lust threatened to overpower me, but I calmed myself and continued on. "You want me to take off my clothes for you, don't you?"

He nodded immediately.

I pulled my hand from his waistband and walked around in front of him. I leaned over again, breasts at his eye level. He looked up into my eyes as I leaned into him again, to whisper in his ear one last time.

"I want to take my clothes off for you."

He licked his lips.

I backed off, watching his eyes before I turned, my back to him, reaching down to run my hands over my legs and thighs, reaching back towards him, showing him what he wanted to see. I slowly moved upright and turned to face him, his jaw slack in his desire, eyes on my body. He raised his eyes to mine and I smiled. I moved towards him again, shifting back and forth in a slow, sultry movement. I inched closer, until I was again standing over him with his legs between mine. I looked down to see his erection straining against his pants and I licked my lips. He moaned and I pressed myself against his chest carefully, making sure that I didn't touch him below the waist.

His brow furrowed in frustration. I laughed quietly.

"So, what do you like the best about me, Edward?"

He didn't answer, just watched me, the desire in his eyes palpable.

_Easy, girl. You're going to lose it if he keeps looking at you that way._

I took a deep breath to steady my voice. "Do you like it best when I touch you?"

He nodded.

"Or do you prefer it when I bite you?" I bit his neck gently. He moaned and nodded.

"Or do you like when I lick you?" I lowered my mouth to his neck, drawing lazy lines with my tongue up to his jaw. He shuddered and nodded.

I laughed quietly. "You can't have all three, Edward. What do you like _best_?"

His eyes were closed, his breathing labored. He shook his head.

I leaned in and whispered into his ear. "If you don't tell me, Edward, I won't do _anything_ to you."

His eyes opened and bore into mine. He licked his lips. "I like it when you look at me."

I was a bit taken aback, but I smiled at him. "What do you mean?"

He returned my smile sheepishly. "…At the club—you were watching me when you were dancing. You closed your eyes on stage, but when it was me… you watched me. You kept your eyes open."

"Do you know why I watched you?" _Oh, this was going to be too easy._

He shook his head and licked his lips again.

"I _watched_ you because you are my fantasy. Every time I get up on stage, every time I dance, I imagine you sitting before me, ready for me, wanting me." I gripped his shoulders and sat, straddling him, and we both shuddered.

_My god, his body feels good. _

I stared into his eyes. "Do you want to touch me?"

He nodded.

I nodded.

His hands were immediately on me, running over my hips, squeezing my ass, pulling me down and pushing himself against me. His mouth was on mine in a frenzy of heat, lips crushing against mine, tongues intertwined, sucking, tasting. His mouth on my jaw, beneath my ear, in my hair, pulling the clip free and letting my hair fall below my shoulders. He grasped my hair and pulled my head back, moaning against my throat. I wrapped my legs around the front chair legs and pulled down against him harder. He ran his hands over my back and hips, pulling me against him again.

Bracing my legs against the chair, I leaned back slightly and reached up to unhook the clasp of my bra. His hands were on my breasts, caressing, fingertips stuttering across my nipples, and I shivered, leaning my head back. He pushed me backwards, running his hand up and down my chest, then leaned forward and pulled me upright in his lap, taking my nipple in his mouth, sucking gently. I moaned and pushed myself against him again before regaining some control and sitting back slightly.

"Whew." I smiled.

He smiled back. "Intense?"

"Yeah."

I stood up and took a step back, running my hands over my body, watching his response. He groaned and reached for his erection.

"Stand up." I ordered.

He stood, and I walked up to him, dropping to my knees before him. He gazed down at me as I reached up to free him from the confines of his clothing.

He finished shrugging out of his clothes and stood before me. I leaned forward and touched my lips lightly on the tip of his cock. He moaned in appreciation. I parted my lips and flicked my tongue over his head, moving in slow circles, finally encompassing his entire head in my mouth. He shuddered slightly and pushed his hands into my hair, trying to drive himself deeper into my mouth. I put my hands on his hips, and with his next gentle thrust, I opened my mouth suddenly and pulled him deep into my mouth. He groaned my name in pleasure, and I hummed in response. He withdrew himself from my mouth and reached down to me, pulling me to a standing position before him. He picked me up effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his cock against me as he carried me to the bed.

He reached down to take off my shoes, but I stopped him.

"I'll leave the heels on if you want me to."

He nodded, then reached into the bedside drawer and withdrew a condom. I took it from him, ripping off the wrapper and placing it carefully on his shaft. I pulled him to me, kissing him again, moving onto my back on the bed.

He ran his hands over my body with a gentle reverence, catching his thumbs on the sides of my g-string, sliding them down my legs, running his hands over my stockings. He kissed my stomach, then the insides of my thighs, then my aching center. I moaned and pushed him away, shaking my head.

"Edward, I can't wait any longer."

He moved on top of me, and I felt his hardness at my warm, soft opening. He waited, pressing his head against me, and I pushed forward. He drew back, teasing me, until I grabbed him and thrust myself towards him. He entered me swiftly, and I cried out at the pleasure of the sudden fullness. I ground my hips against his, feeling his hardness within me, raising my hips to take him in completely.

"My God, woman…" he groaned and thrust again, stroking, matching my movements with his, the heat of our bodies a consuming fire. With each thrust I tightened around him, and heard myself moaning.

"Bella, open your eyes."

I obeyed, staring into his dark honey-colored eyes, and seeing his face sent me over the edge. I gripped his arms and felt my climax building, pulsing, the pleasure exploding in points of light as I clenched over and over against him.

He responded immediately, and with a groan I felt his release, the gentle throb triggering something within me. I moved against him, thrusting again and again, until I felt the unmistakable pleasure of a second climax washing over me. _Oh… that's n__ever… I've never… had that happen before…_

We lay immobilized and breathless with the exertion of our lovemaking. After a time, he reached over to cover me with a blanket. I curled into him and he wrapped his arms around me, placing gentle kisses on my cheek. I buried my face into his exquisite chest and drifted off to sleep in the warmth of our intimacy.

* * * * *

**A/N: Whew, I need a cigarette. And I don't even smoke (anymore). Was it worth the wait? I think so, but I'm kind of partial.**

**Special thanks to the most awesome beta in the universe, AzureEyedI. Go read her fanfic, "The Fixer," and tell Sofia I said hi.**

**Now put on some heels and go do your husband a favor.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Special shout-out to AzureEyedI for being amazing and awesome and my partner in hobolicious crimes.**

**Posting early 'cause I can… and for the UU bitches on Ravelry. I loves you all.**

**Chapter**** 14**

The light of the sun flooding into the room woke me the next morning. I stretched and rolled over, pressing myself against Edward's back, wrapping my arm around his still body. He moved his hand to caress my arm, then rolled over towards me, kissing me lightly on the lips before pulling me into his chest.

"Good morning, Bella."

"Mmmmm." I sighed in response.

We lay there, intertwined, breathing in and out, our bodies satiated with sex and sleep. I rolled to my back, stretching my arms overhead. He reached out and stroked my body with his fingertips.

We lay quietly for a moment, then he laughed.

"What is it?"

His fingers never stopped their slow, lazy route. He shook his head and closed his eyes, a smile on his lips.

"Nothing really. I just think it interesting that you told me less than 24 hours ago that you didn't know me well enough to spend the weekend with me."

"And yet, here we are." I laughed, appreciating the irony.

His fingers moved gently over my breasts. "And yet, here you are."

* * * * *

An hour later I padded downstairs in bare feet and a t-shirt Edward had given to me. I sat down at the breakfast bar and pulled up my wet hair into a ponytail.

Edward's hair was still damp from his shower. I watched him move about the kitchen, brewing coffee, taking orange juice from the fridge, turning the French toast. I reached over and plucked an apple slice from the bowl on the counter before me.

"Do you need any help?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No. You're my guest."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Suit yourself." I sat back in my chair, stretching. "A girl could get used to this kind of treatment. You'd better be careful, or you're going to spoil me."

He smiled that crooked grin, the one that made my heart beat falter the first time I ever saw him.

"There are worse things for a woman than to be spoiled by a man, Bella."

He placed a cup of coffee and a plate of French toast in front of me. I planned on waiting for him to sit down, but he motioned for me to start eating, so I dug in. A few minutes later he poured himself coffee and came to sit beside me. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Edward asked when I'd swallowed a mouthful.

I shrugged. "I was going to clean my apartment and do some laundry, but that's about it."

He nodded. "When do you have to work next?"

I chewed for a moment. "I think Tuesday is my next night on the schedule."

He took a drink of his coffee. "I told you yesterday that I'd planned on going to my cabin for the weekend, but… well, those plans fell through. I rearranged my schedule and have the next few days free, if you'd like to accompany me." Another drink of his coffee, not watching me.

I finished chewing and swallowed. I took a deep breath. "That sounds like fun. I'd like to go with you." _What a difference a day makes._

I detected the relief in his smile. "If you want, take the Volvo to your apartment, pack whatever you need for a few days. Oh, and bring your laundry. I have a washer and dryer at the cabin."

"Thanks." _Was that excitement in his eyes? Was I giving away how excited I was?_

We finished our breakfast in a comfortable silence.

* * * * *

I've driven three cars in my life. I learned to drive on my mother's ancient 1986 Dodge Omni, a difficult task made more difficult. Not only did I need to learn how to drive from my scatterbrained mother, but I had to figure out the proper sequence of using a stick shift. The second was the Chevy, a homecoming gift from Charlie when I moved to Forks. The third was Mike's Suburban, an ancient beast that was very finicky, more so when it rained.

Edward's Volvo was like the attractive girl in the bar that gets better looking the more you talk to her. She responds attentively to you, and after a few hair tosses and pats to your arm, you think you just might be able to see yourself in love with her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm faithful to my sturdy, reliable truck, but I was thrilled driving the Volvo. I had to be careful to not stomp on the accelerator or brake, and was surprised every time by how responsive the clutch was.

I got to my apartment more quickly than I had expected, and realized as I rushed into my apartment building that I was in a hurry to get back to Edward. I smiled. My heart did a little flip as I anticipated spending the next two days with him.

I combed through my clothes again, wishing that I had a better selection. I didn't really know anything about his cabin, so I could only guess as to what I should bring. I grabbed my only other pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, boots, and my toiletries. I threw my laundry into a basket along with my knitting and a paperback, locked up and headed back to the Volvo.

I smiled to myself. _I'm going to Edward's._

* * * * *

I pulled back into the parking garage and parked in Edward's numbered spot. I left my things in the Volvo and started toward the elevator.

"Bella." I turned to see Edward, aluminum cooler in his hands, standing next to an imposing pickup truck.

"What are you doing?" I asked, walking towards him.

"Loading up for our trip," he answered, hefting the large cooler into the bed of the truck. He turned and nodded towards he Volvo. "Go ahead and get your things."

"We're taking this?" I surveyed the behemoth; a black Ford F-350 Super Duty 4x4 quad cab. I stood on my toes to peek inside; automatic, wood trim, GPS, leather interior. Naturally.

"What's the matter, couldn't afford the F-350 dually?"

He laughed. "It wasn't necessary. This works fine for my needs. I really only use the truck for going to the cabin, or if I'm checking out a construction site."

I wrinkled my nose playfully. "I guess it's OK."

He laughed again. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I'm a Chevy girl. I'm partial."

He smiled. "We'll see about that."

* * * * *

Interstate 5, the only American highway that connects Mexico and Canada, was carved out of an 800-mile stretch of California granite. Constructed in the late 1950s, it was one of the first highways to be christened under President Eisenhower's Federal Highway Act. The roadway curves along through northern California before banking northwest and leaving the state behind for the greener lands of the Pacific Northwest. "Welcome to Oregon" signs aren't even necessary; the change from the sporadic scrub and terracotta dirt to lush, greener forest is apparent

We drove the I-5 north until we hit Antean. A small town in the Rogue River National Forest area, Antean breathed a sigh of relief when the Oregon Department of Transportation waved its wand and decided it would be the recipient of on and off ramps. The Volvo would have been out of place among the American-made pickup trucks that passed us on the unmarked roads.

"Do you know everyone that lives around here?" I asked.

"No, why do you ask?"

"Well, everyone who drives past waves at you."

Edward laughed. "It's just the truck. Everyone driving a pickup waves at everyone else driving a pickup. It's a small-town thing."

I nodded. _Had people waved at me in Forks? _I couldn't remember.

A few miles further we stopped at a small roadside vegetable stand. While I picked out fruit and vegetables, Edward chatted with the older proprietor about the pear crop, the rain, arguing mildly about the Seahawks and the Raiders. The man waved off the money Edward tried to hand him, but I saw him slip it into the palm of the man's wife when he kissed her cheek as we left.

I waited until we were both inside the truck. "They seemed nice."

He nodded. "Hector and Ava have lived here for years. Very hard-working people. I have a great deal of respect for them."

We pulled out onto the road and continued west.

"How much longer?"

"About twenty minutes."

I checked the map, but it was difficult to tell where we were without street signs. Edward looked over at me and smiled.

"Don't bother. These roads are not on the map."

"What about your GPS?"

He smiled and turned it on. After a moment, a robotic female voice said, "Insufficient information for positional accuracy."

I laughed. "It's like we aren't even here."

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later we pulled off the main roadway onto a narrow gravel lane sheltered by trees. Edward slowed the truck as we wound gently up the hillside.

"I bet this is a pain in the winter." I looked out my window at the steep ditches on either side of the path.

He chuckled. "You could say that. It can be a pain in the summer, too. If rains wash out the gravel… well, let's just say I don't take chances." He patted the steering wheel.

"Why wouldn't you just have it paved?"

He looked over at me, cocking an eyebrow. "The last time I got an estimate, paving 5000 feet of driveway cost twenty thousand dollars."

My jaw dropped. "Wow. Well, what about blacktop? That's cheaper, isn't it?"

His smile was wry. "That _was_ the cost for blacktop. Concrete was double that."

My eyes widened. "That is some serious cash."

He shrugged. "It just isn't important enough for me to spend the money on. It's more cost-effective to purchase a four-wheel-drive truck, pay for insurance, maintenance, wear and tear… even considering the exorbitant price of gas, it's worthwhile."

I squinted at him. "Is everything a question of money with you?"

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I turned to look out the windshield. "It just seems like your decisions are made after you complete a thorough cost analysis. Doesn't emotion come into play at all?"

I was startled when he laughed. "Really, Bella? Emotion tends to be more of a factor for women with regards to decision-making. Men tend to approach things from a more logical standpoint. Emotion doesn't really have any place in money matters."

I turned in my seat to face him. "So women are incapable of formulating coherent logical responses to problems because we're just one hot mess of PMS?" _Was he really planning on going down this road?_

"That's not at all what I said. Men _tend to have _a more logical approach, while women _tend to have_ a more emotional approach. When properly balanced, it works well. Look at Alice and me. We balance each other out extremely well. She's been a great asset to our company. If not for Alice, I believe that Jasper, Emmett and I would have driven the company into the ground."

I pouted, only mildly appeased. I wanted to get back to my main question.

"If emotion shouldn't play a part in financial decisions, then why did you pay Ava for our groceries when Hector refused your money? Wouldn't the business-minded person been more concerned with getting a good deal?" I crossed my arms.

His jaw flexed slightly. "That's different."

"How is it different?

He didn't answer. I knew I had him on this point, but I knew better than to gloat.

"What about us? Is your decision to be with me completely devoid of emotion?" _Baiting the trap._

His voice grew quiet. "I didn't say that emotion _doesn't_ play into my decisions, just not financial ones. And I don't think of you as a 'financial decision,' Bella."

It was my turn to laugh. "Please, Edward. _Look _at me. I'm willing to bet that I look worse on paper than just about anyone you've ever dated, but here we are."

He didn't respond.

"Let's remove me from the equation. Let's look at something much simpler. The logic of your decisions. You and I both know that the only reason why you didn't refuse to open the club with dancers was because it would be more lucrative. Your morality, your ethics, your principles… no match for the almighty dollar." I flexed my hands against my arms. "Perhaps if you'd allowed your emotion to cloud your judgment, you wouldn't be so hypocritical. Hates strippers, but he still sleeps with one."

It was like the brain filter was unengaged and every thought in my head was spewing forth from my mouth. My words bounced around the cab of the truck and assaulted my ears like a bitchy echo. _Shut up before you go too far._

His silence was stony.

He'd stopped the truck in a small gravel parking area in front of the cabin. We sat in silence for several long minutes, me looking at the two-story wood-sided building through my passenger window. The quiet lengthened, and I started questioning if I'd really said those words at all; perhaps I'd had the conversation with him in my head? I knew this wasn't the case, but the silence was deafening…

"Come on. I'll show you around." Edward pushed open his door without looking at me.

I sighed and opened my door.

* * * * *

The cabin was more like a two-story farmhouse; cedar sided, with a more open floor plan than your typical farmhouse. To the right of the front door was a coat closet, then the staircase to the second floor. A small but cheery powder room was immediately opposite the coat closet on the left. The hallway ended in a large, bright kitchen with maple butcher-block counters and wide-plank heart pine flooring. The kitchen opened to the great room beyond with a ceiling that rose to the second floor.

I checked the cupboards and saw they were stocked with dry goods in airtight containers, dishes, pots, pans, silverware. Edward unloaded the contents of the large aluminum cooler into the refrigerator. I hung back in the kitchen, wanting to help but unsure of whether or not I should offer. _Was he angry with me?_

He picked up the empty cooler and walked through an entryway to what looked like a screened-in back porch. He set it down with a thud and walked back into the kitchen. He raised his eyes to mine for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"Would you like a tour of the place?"

"Sure." I walked towards him, spontaneously reaching out my hand. He looked down and took it immediately. Without a word, I knew I was forgiven.

We walked, hand in hand, into the great room, a large open room with a ceiling open to the second floor. The back wall of the cabin was an expanse of glass, large windows with an amazing view of the lush green forest. A stone fireplace, much larger than the fireplace at his loft, dominated the left corner of the room.

He motioned to the fireplace. "There's another fireplace on the other side of this one. It's under an overhang, sheltered from the weather, so we can use it even if it's rainy."

"I really like the design. I have a tough time with dead fireplaces, though."

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "Fireplaces without a fire always seem cold and dead to me. I hate the way they look, even in summer when it's too hot for fires." The thought of cold made me shiver a little.

He smiled. "Well, if you want to crumple up some paper while I take the bags upstairs, we'll build a fire together."

_Hmmm… I wonder where he's going to put the bags? Separate rooms? In the same room? I guess I'll just follow his lead…_

I heard the front door close as I reached for a stack of newspapers in a bin near the hearth. I absentmindedly began to crumple a few sheets of paper and then tossed them inside the fireplace. I looked down to read the headline of the months-old newspaper, but it was missing; someone had cut out the article. Curiosity made me open the entire section, and I saw that there was another smaller square cut out of an inner page. _Business section. Must be information on one of his projects. Maybe research on a prospective client?_

The front door opened again and I heard Edward's footsteps on the stairs. I continued crumpling paper, creating a little nest of wrinkled advertisements and ancient sports pages. I reached for the box of fatwood and plucked a few pieces, splitting one larger piece before angling them in a teepee shape atop the paper.

"Where's the firewood?" I called.

Edward appeared at the balcony above the great room. "Stacked just outside. I'll be down in a minute to get it."

I shot a withering look upwards at him. "Do you really think I'm so helpless I can't carry a few pieces of firewood into the house?"

He grinned crookedly at me. "Your boots are by the front door."

I strode to the front door, grabbed my boots and walked back to the sliding door in the great room. I shoved my feet into my boots, tucking the laces inside and unlocked the door. The patio was wider than I'd realized, the sloping overhang of the roof helping to keep the weather at bay. The angle was gentle enough that it didn't obstruct the view. _Somebody had a decent architect._

I grabbed several pieces of firewood from the neat stack at the back of the patio, carrying them back inside and placing them in the wood box. I made another trip before Edward joined me, sliding open the door and trying to take them from me.

I shook my head. "Just go get another load."

We filled the wood box, and Edward checked the damper before adding several sticks of firewood and lighting the paper.

"You took the easy way out, you know."

His look was blank.

I smiled. "Fatwood is cheating."

He laughed. "If you want to go that route, using matches and paper is cheating."

I sighed. "Sorry, I'm fresh out of dry tinder."

He smiled at me and reached over to take my hand again. "Not bad… for a girl."

I tried to pull away from him in protest, but he laughed and gripped my hand, pulling me close to him. I pretended to complain, continued trying to wiggle away, but he stilled me with one whispered sentence.

"If you keep pulling away, then I can't kiss you."

I stilled immediately, pulse tripping. He lifted my chin with his finger and looked into my eyes.

"Bella, I…" he didn't finish his sentence; instead, he lowered his lips to mine, brushing them gently. He kissed me again with a slight increase in pressure before pulling away slowly.

He turned me so that I was laying against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and began to rock slightly. "Bella." he started again. "Please understand. I have been thinking with a logical mind for so long, it's sometimes hard for me to give in to my emotions."

I nodded. "I know. I'm sorry I got so defensive in the truck. I said some fairly rude things."

I felt him nod against me. "Here you are, completely rude, completely wrong for me…"

Before he could finish I was pulling away, trying to face him in order to sear him with another withering look. "Wrong for you?" I sputtered.

He pinned my arms playfully to keep me from turning, the chuckle deep in his throat. "You didn't let me finish." He burrowed his face into the side of my neck and whispered into my ear. "You are completely wrong for me… and I am completely smitten with you."

The heat that burst forth from within me was stronger and hotter than that which burned in the fireplace before us. I leaned my head forward slightly and he nuzzled my neck, under my ear, small kisses and murmurs of appreciation setting my skin to tingling.

I sat, very still, letting his lips brush over my skin, the gooseflesh rolling up my spine and over my scalp. I murmured in appreciation as he swept my hair forward, the skin of my neck exposed to his suddenly hungry mouth. I felt his kisses strengthen and his fingers trailed into my hair, kneading, stroking. I was determined to maintain my self control… and then his teeth grazed my neck, biting gently, sucking lightly, and I whirled, pushing myself hard against him.

His arms encircled me and I gripped him tightly. With a sigh he moved backwards until we both lay on the carpet before the fireplace. The heat increased exponentially, whether from the fire or the friction of our bodies I wasn't sure. The flames danced in the fireplace, bathing us in warm light, as we moved together, enmeshed in longing, in each other.

* * * * *

**A/N So maybe Edward might want to, I dunno... think about what he says before he says it? And stop being Yo-yo Boyfriend? Sheesh. Get a grip, dude. You might _think _that your chick is going Emo on you, but _you don't say it out loud._ Maybe Alice needs to have a little talk with Jackward.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**As always, my deepest gratitude to AzureEyedI, who has taught me that there is no such thing as TMI when it comes to fanfic.**

**A shorter-than-average ****chapter, but worth it.**

**WARNING: Lemons ahead. Awwww, yeah!**

**Chapter**** 15**

I must have dozed after our little afternoon session; I stirred and found myself alone, covered by a soft blanket. I wrapped myself up and padded into the kitchen, in search of water and a snack. The cupboards yielded a box of crackers and I found some cheese and pears in the refrigerator. I made a plate and carried it back into the great room, grabbing a book off of the coffee table and settling down to read before the fire.

I situated myself with the blanket and munched on my snack, leaning against the hearth, fire warming my skin. I browsed the pages of the book and was soon aware of a heavy thudding sound coming from outside. I sat quietly, straining to hear. It sounded like someone pounding nails, but much louder, and at a slower cadence. Almost like… _railroad ties? Someone pounding railroad ties? _

I stood quickly and pulled on my clothes, rewrapping the blanket around me before shoving my feet into my boots and heading out the back door. The cool air washed over my face and I was momentarily sorry to leave the warmth of the fire for the moist outdoors. I followed the sound of the pounding, which had stopped and been replaced by a loud _thwack…thwack…thwack._ I walked around the side of a small tool shed and stopped.

Logs, cut into what appeared to be 18- to 24-inch lengths, were dumped haphazardly into a huge pile. A large stump was being used as a makeshift chopping block as Edward pushed one of the larger logs onto the block, balancing it carefully, before taking aim with his maul. He ran his hand over the top of the log, then stepped back, pushed the maul up and over his head, before bringing it down into the heart of the log. With a snap, the log split into two.

"Whoa! Nice hit!"

He looked up suddenly, and I realized that he hadn't heard me approach. I smiled, and he smiled in return.

I walked forward, laughing. "What are you doing, splitting firewood? I'd figure you for the guy that would have a few cords delivered and stacked for you."

He grinned and wiped his brow. "Stress reliever. I enjoy the physical labor."

I watched him as he stacked the two pieces neatly onto a newly started pile and swiped at his brow.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked. "I made a plate of fruit and cheese, and I could grab you some water from the kitchen."

He smiled again, that warm grin of his the only encouragement I needed. I turned and ran to the kitchen.

Five minutes later I returned; plate, full water bottle, knitting bag and blanket under my arm. I walked back around the shed just as he set down an Adirondack chair and table about ten feet away from where he was splitting wood. I put down the plate and handed him the water bottle.

"Thanks." He gave me a lopsided smile and drank deeply before handing me back the bottle. I set it down on the side table and sat down on the Adirondack chair, adjusting the blanket and pulling out my knitting.

Edward turned and walked back towards the maul, stripping off his t-shirt and tossing it onto a log at the bottom of the pile. My eyes roved over his body as he moved, the muscles in his arms taut as he lifted another log and checked the angle of the grain, sighting his next strike. I couldn't look away from his arms, his chest, his hands, as hefted the eight pounds of steel and hickory overhead and laid the head into the center of the log with another satisfying _thwack._

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, and followed it with a low whistle. He looked up, eyeing me.

"Are you OK?"

I fanned myself lightly. "I'm fine. I just never expected this type of thing to be so… well, so manly." _And so fucking hot. My god, look at that body of his…_

He smiled. "When you sit in meetings all day, in a suit and tie, sometimes you need a little reminder of what it's like to work with your hands." His hands slid along the hickory shaft of the maul yet again, and I felt a twinge within my core.

I shook my head slightly and smiled at him. "Why don't you show me again?" I winked at him.

He threw his head back and laughed. "What? Don't tell me you're _enjoying_ this—this display of masculinity!"

"Please, Edward, can I see your muscles?" I affected the face of a pining teenager.

He flexed a bicep and I squealed with mock fangirl glee.

"Oh, Edward, do that again!"

He shook his head at me. "You're too much, you know that?"

I shrugged. "Only sometimes." I watched him as he stacked the two split logs and balanced a new log on the chopping block. Again my eyes pored over him, taking him in as he twisted and bent, arms and legs straining with the weight of it, raising the maul overhead… the _thwack_ as the maul split the fibers of the wood.

"Dammit." He muttered to himself, and I saw the maul head was stuck three quarters of the way down the log. He pumped the handle of the maul, finally twisting it free. He picked up a wedge and pushed it into the opening, then hefted a sledgehammer, letting it drop onto the wedge over and over and over until the wood broke free and two logs lay where one had been before.

I let out a long breath, knitting forgotten as I watched him. The sweat was slick on his arms and shoulders, complete concentration creasing his brow. He was consumed with the effort of defeating the timber, of proving his superiority and forcing his foe into submission. I was mesmerized by this holy work of maleness, every fiber of my being growing more attracted to him with each passing moment.

The heat.

The pounding.

The friction.

The sweat.

The dominance.

I felt myself grow a bit lightheaded and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. I took a few deep breaths, waiting for my sudden and overwhelming arousal to pass. _What is this man doing to me?_

A shadow blocked the sun, and I opened my eyes.

He stood over me, looking down. "Are you OK?" he asked, concern etching his brow.

I didn't answer. I pushed the blanket off of my lap and reached for the waist of his jeans, unsnapping them with one hand. He laughed and grabbed my wrist.

"What's gotten you so worked up?" he smiled at me.

I licked my lips and moved my legs off of the chair, straddling it, still holding fast to his jeans. I met his gaze. "There's something about you… and this…" I looked from him to the woodpile and back. "… and you."

His lopsided grin took my breath away as always. He loosened his grip on my arm, but held on gently, thumb circling against the inside of my wrist. "An enlightened, empowered woman, being turned on by the base, physical nature of a man."

I shook my head slightly. "I can't explain it." My voice was husky to my ears. "I just want… to…" I couldn't speak, but I could do. I renewed my grip and he released my wrist, running his fingers up my forearm in a gesture of gentle surrender. I pulled at him, forcing his jeans down roughly, freeing his manhood, continuing to push his pants away as I took him hungrily into my mouth.

I moaned, encircling the soft skin of his rigidity with my lips, feeling the warmth within my core spread. He gave an answering moan and leaned back slightly, giving me better access. I sighed in appreciation and moved my lips and tongue further down his shaft, grazing him gently with my teeth. I felt him shudder and his hands were immediately in my hair.

"Oh… Bella… If you do that again." He gritted his teeth in an attempt at control.

My arousal was heightened by the knowledge of what I was capable of…what I was doing to him, what I was doing _for_ him. I moaned and took his entire length again, sucking and licking, my tongue rolling around and around his head, then taking his whole shaft again, deeper than ever before. I felt his hands tighten in my hair and he tried to pull me away from him.

"I can't… that's so good…" he whispered.

I let my tongue laze around the tip of his hardness, and he relaxed his hands slightly. I waited a moment, then dragged my teeth along the length of him again and felt his body stiffen slightly in an effort to back away. I reached out, grabbing his ass, ramming him as deeply as possible into my mouth, over and over, holding him in place as he bucked gently against my mouth.

He gave over to the feeling, to the desire, embedding his cock in my mouth, and I sucked him, pumping my mouth against him, holding him close. He came with a roar, face given up to the sun, back arched, holding onto my hair with a rough grip. I matched his movements, taking everything he gave me, swallowing with a satisfied smile.

He waited, unable to move, breathing heavily. Finally he dropped onto the chair in front of me, kissing my lips gently as I tasted him, salt and sweet, desire and heat. We sat, eye to eye, not speaking for several moments.

"Where did _that_ come from?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I guess you inspired me. All that testosterone-laden work you were doing must have overwhelmed my pheromones."

He leaned forward, kissing me again, and then touched his lips to my forehead.

"I guess I should do manly testosterone-laden work more often around you."

I nodded. "I think I could handle that."

* * * * *

**A/N: Whew! That is all.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**My thanks, as always, to AzureEyedI for her mad beta skillz and general hilariousness. Shout out to the UU group on Ravelry; you make my heart flutter with your dirty RPattz photos and your Robku.**

**Chapter 16**

We spent most of the afternoon outside, me reading in the Adirondack chair while he split and stacked firewood. We talked some, about his family, his interests, how he'd found this property. He sat down on the footstool, mopping his brow with his t-shirt and drinking deeply from the water bottle.

"It was completely by accident. I was dealing with a difficult business situation, and driving always seems to help me get my head on straight. I packed a few things and came north into Oregon, needed gas and got off the freeway. Instead of getting back on, I drove into the hills for a while, then parked and walked a bit. I saw a little stream running down the side of a hill and followed it, all the way up to the top, finding the source. It turned out to be a freshwater spring. I found a number of good pond sites and a relatively flat spot atop a hill that would be good for a house. So I did some research and found the owner, made an offer, and purchased the land."

By this time, we'd been walking, and he showed me various spots on the property; the best place to watch the stars, the best spot for a garden (if he ever felt the need to live here full-time), the line where approximately 74,000 acres of the Rogue River National Forest butts up against his five hundred acres of property.

He took my hand as we walked, detailing how he'd had a construction road cut in, followed by gravel, which was expensive because he'd wanted to preserve a number of large trees and the switchbacks had to navigate carefully. The house itself was fairly nondescript, simple but efficient. He'd customized the cabin, but had wanted it to fit in with the landscape, so as not to be too ostentatious.

"Besides," he continued as we walked through some scrubby underbrush, "if you build a huge cabin and outfit it with all of the latest and greatest… it's a magnet for thieves. I had the garage built first, mostly for storage. The company I hired for the windows didn't have the glass block I wanted, so I had them install double-paned windows. The first weekend, some kids broke in and used it as a hangout; beer bottles and garbage all over. I had all of the windows replaced and planned on installing a wireless security system, but up here the Internet connections are spotty, to say nothing of the power grid…" He shook his head, a scowl on his face. "I ended up befriending one of the locals who happens to be a police officer in a small town south of here. In exchange for checking the property once or twice a week, I pay him a small stipend and he has free reign to hunt and fish the property. Except when I'm here, of course." He smiled and squeezed my hand.

"So no one would have observed our little… _display_ a few hours ago?"

He shook his head. "Only the birds."

I raised my eyebrow playfully. "I could give the birds an idea or two, I'm sure."

The underbrush thinned as we came to the top of a hill. Before us was a line of purple and blue wildflowers, waving gently in the light wind.

"How beautiful," I breathed, and bent to pick a stem.

Edward's snort surprised me, and his mouth set in a grim line. "These aren't wildflowers. This is Patterson's Curse."

I laughed. "'Patterson's Curse'? Are you serious?"

He nodded. "It's a plant that's native to Europe, but was introduced into Australia in the late 1800s by a woman named Jane Patterson. She brought the seeds with her, thinking that they would make her little garden more beautiful, but the plant took over and destroyed pastureland for miles around. It's since made its way to the western United States. It's poisonous; kills countless numbers of grazing animals every year." He bent to investigate the pretty flowers before us, then spoke, almost under his breath. "I need to call ODR; it isn't supposed to be this far south yet."

I fixed him with a questioning stare. "What's the problem? It isn't like you have any grazing animals that are going to die from eating this, right?"

He smiled, but there was an edge to it that unsettled me. "Bella, just because these little flowers look pretty and benign doesn't mean that they aren't dangerous. They're an invasive species that can cause harm to the cattle and horses of any neighboring farmers, if it spreads." He pulled at the nearest clump of the violet-colored weeds, twisted and pulling until the taproot finally gave way and released its grip on the earth. He tossed it to the ground and brushed his hands on his pants.

"Not everything that looks beautiful really is."

* * * * *

We made our way back to the woodpile, and I brought the plates and water bottles into the cabin while he put away the chair and table. We were in the midst of preparing dinner in the kitchen when he asked me the first question.

"So what brought you here?"

Such an innocuous question, yet my heart froze. Did I really want to tell him my past? Did he even want to know, or was he just being polite? What would he think? Did it really matter, since I was doing my best to keep from thinking about him emotionally?

I laughed, but to my ears it sounded like a hollow bark. "A big Ford F-350 Super Duty."

His smile was patient.

My thoughts raced as I took a deep breath.

"I was born in Forks, Washington. My parents split up when I was two, and I moved to Phoenix with my mom. I saw my dad for a few weeks each summer, and when I was a junior in high school I moved back to Forks to stay with Dad for a while. My mom got remarried, and it just seemed easier to stay in one place with my Dad than to move around with Mom and Phil. He's a minor-league baseball player, and when he was offered a position with a double-A team, they moved to Houston, but I didn't want to move there, so I went to live with Charlie in Forks."

I realized that I'd chopped the onions much smaller than I had planned, and scraped them into a small measuring bowl before continuing.

"I graduated high school, was accepted to Dartmouth, and couldn't afford it." I shrugged, as if this should be enough of an explanation for anyone. Edward didn't say anything, so I continued. "I moved to Port Angeles with my boyfriend and we went to Peninsula together, but things didn't work out, so… I took off."

I shrugged again, determined not to give any more information away than I needed to. _What did he care, anyway? It's not like it really matters to him._

I stole a glance at Edward, but his face was impassive. He put the marinade on the chicken and turned to slicing and seeding the red peppers.

"What did you study at Peninsula?"

"English. Well, I'm an English major, I guess, but I was doing well in my business classes. I was considering switching my major to business, but I thought it would be too boring, so…" I trailed off, as the thought dawned on me that Edward had probably been a business major. I rolled my eyes at myself. _Way to alienate the hot guy cooking dinner with you, Bella._

"What about business bored you?" No sign of condescension or disdain for my answer; just an honest question.

"I took a statistics class, and thought my head would fall off. I've never been very math minded, and it seemed like every class I took had some form of math in it. There is no way that I could ever do that, so…" I stopped myself from shrugging again and blew a deep breath out.

He moved the peppers into another measuring bowl. "Math isn't that difficult. You use it every day. So many people see math as something abstract; I see it as concrete; as evidence, and proof. There's comfort in knowing that A plus B equals C."

I stopped and looked at him. "But that's the problem. I _hate_ that A plus B equals C. There's no room for explanation, no delving into context and sub context. It just _is._ A can't ever equal D because that's not the equation. A doesn't love B, then have B cheat on her and dump her and deal with the emotions behind it." I stopped suddenly, realizing that I was waving my knife around. I put it on the counter.

"I guess I prefer literature because of the expansiveness. The metaphor. Have you ever read Jonathan Livingston Seagull?" I asked.

He nodded with a sour look. "I absolutely loathed that book."

My mouth dropped open. "I loved that book! My senior year in high school, our AP Literature class read that book. Our final exam was to list as much symbolism and as many metaphors and their meanings as we could in the ninety minutes we had for the exam. I had the most with one hundred and seventy five." I jutted my chin a little with pride.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "That's a lot of metaphor."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess it is." I looked around to see if there was anything else to chop. "So why did you hate the book so much?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. "One of the main themes of the story is determination. It leads the reader to believe that regardless of the circumstances he faces, if he has enough determination, he can accomplish anything." His mouth was a thin line. "That isn't true. Not by a long shot. And filling seventeen-year-old heads with that kind of garbage… irresponsible educators." This last part he muttered, punching at the chicken breasts marinating in their Ziploc bag.

I looked at him with wide eyes. "So you didn't get the theme of redemption? Of looking beyond your circumstances to something greater, regardless of what those around you say? Of having the strength and courage to do what you must in life, to prove to yourself that you can succeed?"

All pretenses of kitchen work were put aside. He stared at the counter then looked at me.

"Bella, I…" he stopped, shook his head, and started again. "I was born into a very poor family. My parents had nothing, but were very religious people. We went to Mass together as a family every Sunday; my mother went alone every morning at six. My father worked very hard, but was never able to sustain our family consistently. I remember coming home from school and seeing him sitting at the kitchen table with Mother, drinking coffee, and knowing he'd been laid off again."

He sighed, and I watched the emotions play out on his face as his mind reversed through time.

"He hated working for someone else, and invariably his emotions got the best of him, and he'd get fired or laid off. But he was too afraid to strike out on his own, to build his own business. He was so good at fixing mechanical things; he often reverse-engineered things in ways that were better than the original. He had such talent, such potential… but he put himself into a box and refused to even consider his alternatives. Because of his fear."

His face clouded with anger at the memory. "My mother's answer to every problem was to pray and fast. I remember when our old tractor broke down to the point that it was beyond repair. Mother's answer was to pray that we would find a new tractor for the farm—which is fine, I have no problem with that—but then she didn't do anything to work in accord with her prayers. I remember asking her once if she planned to check the classifieds for a tractor, and she just shook her head. 'God will provide, Edward.'" His face was disgusted. "It was always her answer. 'Just pray about it. Just pray that we'll be able to pay the mortgage; pray that the car will be fixed; pray that Father will find a new job; pray that his new boss will be agreeable.'"

He looked at me, and his expression was incredulous. "She died of cancer when I was eleven. Her brother—my Uncle Carlisle—is a doctor, tried to get her to go to an oncologist, but she refused. 'Pray for me, Edward. Just light a candle for your mother.'" His face was a mask of sorrow and pain. "I prayed. I prayed like I've never prayed before, and never have since. I begged God to forget about my father's job, and the mortgage, and the tractor, and concentrate all of His effort on healing my mother. After so many years, so many Masses, so many hours spent on her knees, calling out to God, offering up prayers to the Saints for intercession, fingering her rosaries…" He fell silent. Finally, after a deep breath, he continued. "My father died soon after, two weeks before my twelfth birthday. I went to live with my Uncle Carlisle."

Neither one of us spoke; I thought carefully about what question I wanted to ask next.

"How different was it living with him versus living with your parents?"

His responding smile spoke volumes. "Completely different. Uncle Carlisle was the polar opposite of my mother. Where she was a blind believer in her faith in God, Carlisle was a meticulous scientist. He saw miracles in his work that couldn't be explained by ordinary means, but he never used that as an excuse to give up on medicine. It drove him harder, made him more determined. When he lost a patient, he didn't excuse it as 'God's will.' He pinpointed the reason, learned from it, allowed it to make him a stronger physician, better prepared to assist his next patient."

"So you must get your work ethic from him," I stated.

He smiled. "Actually, I get my work ethic from my father. Driven to work hard. I get my desire for success from Carlisle. And my inability to accept no for an answer." His smile grew more crooked, and I felt my heart flutter. Suddenly we weren't talking about him anymore. I had the distinct feeling that he wanted it that way.

"So your parents had three children?" I asked.

His face was blank for a moment, and then I saw the realization in his eyes. "Alice and Emmett," he nodded. "They're Carlisle's children. I went to live with them. Right after my father died I asked Carlisle if he would adopt me. I assume he was surprised, but nevertheless he agreed. I always wanted to have brothers and sisters, but my mother's prayers for more children were never answered." The wry smile again. "Emmett is a year older and Alice is a year younger than I am. We always got along well as children, very close cousins. I wanted to have the same last name, to be introduced as one of Carlisle's sons. I wanted to belong somewhere normal."

I rummaged in the drawer for a corkscrew, and then reached above my head in search of wine glasses. Edward moved to the refrigerator and extracted a bottle of wine.

"Pinot Gris OK with the chicken?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Sure, I guess. I really don't know anything about wine, so…" I trailed off, unsure how to keep up the momentum of this new conversational direction. He was quiet, opening the bottle.

He passed me a glass and I sat down at the table, watching him.

_What's next? Do I even care? Is this sharing time that acts as a prelude to a Relationship, or is it just getting to know each other? Can't we just have great sex and companionship and let it go at that? I'm definitely not ready for a relationship. Is this what I want? Or…not?_

I took a deep breath. "So, Edward, what are you looking for?"

He looked at me but didn't respond. I waited.

"I don't understand."

I gestured back and forth from him to me.

"Us. What is this? Polite conversation or baring our souls?"

"What do you want it to be?"

"Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to answer a question with a question?"

He smiled a little at that, and I smiled back, hoping my face didn't give away the abject fear in my heart. _What if…. _

He sat down at the table across from me.

"Bella." He stopped, running his finger along the base of his wineglass. "If I were to be completely honest, I'd have to say I don't really know what I want. I was not looking for a relationship when I met you. I certainly enjoy the time I spend with you, but I don't know if I'm ready for anything more than what we have right now."

He looked at me, gauging my response. I was surprised to find myself both relieved and troubled by his words. I didn't doubt that he was telling me the truth.

I let out a long breath and smiled brightly at him. "I'm glad to see we're on the same page."

I jumped up from the table. "Let's get the chicken on the grill. I'm starved."

He watched me, gauging my response, then moved towards the back porch where the grill was waiting.

* * * * *

**A/N: **So, a bit of backstory on Edward, a glimpse into his emotional background. He's certaintly turning out to be a tough nut to crack, huh?

Update next Thursday or Friday.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**My unending gratitude to the Queen of Cunnilingus, AzureEyedI, my heaven-sent Beta and BFF. And the lovely and hilarious UU girls on Ravelry. And all of you reviewers, thank you for your encouragement, interest and questions. It warms my heart to know that you care about these characters as much as I do. Mwah!**

**Chapter 17**

We sat at the kitchen table for dinner. I made the salad while Edward grilled the chicken and vegetables. After splitting cleanup duty, Edward rekindled the embers of the mostly-dead fire. He sat in a large chair to the side of the fireplace and I sat as I had this afternoon, back against the hearth, absorbing as much heat as possible. The only light came from the lamp next to his chair where he was reading papers; between the lamp and the fire I had plenty of light to knit by.

I felt more comfortable with the needles now; my stitches were fairly even and I dropped them less and less. Since Alice had taught me to unknit I hadn't needed to rip back the entire project and start from scratch. Up to this point I'd just been knitting practice squares. I'd decided to embark on a scarf, and that was the project I was starting with; a cobalt blue wool blend that Alice had insisted she didn't have any use for. I had offered to pay her for it, but she'd shaken her head and set up her ball winder and swift at the work table in her office. She tooled around Ravelry, and after discussing options with some of the knitters there, selected a nice, easy pattern for me. I liked the look of the Enjoyable-Rib Scarf, and with one of my practice squares I had figured out the yarn-overs and how to knit two together. I decided to cast on.

I was counting my stitches for the second time when I heard a quiet laugh. I looked up at Edward, who was smiling at me.

"What are you working on?"

"A scarf. My first." I looked back to my finger and resumed counting.

"That looks awfully small for a scarf," he mused.

"…Eighteen, nineteen, twenty…" I counted aloud, giving him a dirty look, determined not to lose my place.

He returned my look with a wicked grin. "Fourteen, twenty three, eight thousand three hundred and four…"

"Aaaagghhh!" I screeched and dropped the needles. "You want one of these shoved up your nose?" I threatened.

He laughed. "I'd like to see you try."

I growled at him in a pathetic attempt at a menacing manner and pounced. He caught me easily, swinging my legs around to the side of the chair before pinning my arms playfully. I fought to loosen them, but he just laughed.

My façade of anger crumbled and I giggled. "Let me go!" I squawked.

"Stop resisting."

"No, you let me go."

"Stop resisting."

After one final useless wriggle, I gave up and went limp. He laughed and let go of my arms. I sprawled backwards dramatically to show my complete lack of resistance.

"Hmmm… this could be interesting…" his fingertip moved down my chin to the hollow between my collarbones, and I shuddered slightly before batting his hand away. I kissed him swiftly on the lips before slipping off his lap and reclaiming my needles, settling in to recount my stitches.

Edward resumed reading through his papers. We sat in silence for several minutes, while I counted my stitches for the third time and started working the first row of the pattern. _Slip the first stitch like I'm knitting? Or purling? I think it was purling. Maybe._

I was so engrossed in moving the yarn from one needle to the other I almost dropped them both when Edward threw his papers to the floor and stood. I looked up at him as he rubbed his face, staring into the fire, irritation pressing his eyebrows together.

"Are you OK, Edward?"

He nodded, giving me a quick smile. "I'm fine, Bella. Just… some unexpected issues with a new project." He turned toward the kitchen. "Do you need anything?"

"A glass of water would be nice."

"How about some wine?"

"Sure!" I wasn't going to argue with that.

He brought two glasses into the great room, and sat down next to me at the hearth.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

He grimaced and shook his head. "I should have known better than to bring my work here with me. This is my respite, where I go to get away, not a place to deal with business." He sighed and turned to me.

"What would you like to do?"

"Funny you should ask…" I carefully put down my needles and reached my arms overhead, stretching my back. I watched as Edward's eyes traveled from mine down the length of my body.

"I actually _do_ bring my work home with me. So, if you're interested…" I reached one of my legs out towards him, wrapping it around his waist. His eyes met mine and I raised my eyebrow suggestively.

"Hmmm… I think we need to have a meeting on this." He grasped my waist and pulled me closer.

I nodded, watching his lips. Leaning in, I tested him, tasting the residual wine, the heat, the flavor that was unmistakably him. I brushed my lips against his, biting his lower lip gently.

"Let's go have that meeting."

* * * * *

We awoke the next morning in the loft bedroom, sun streaming in through the eastern skylight. I nuzzled against his neck and hard-bargained with him for coffee-making duty, making numerous promises I had no intention of keeping. He laughed as he pushed a hand through his tousled hair and rolled to the edge of the bed.

I saw my bag sitting on the floor near the dresser. "Hey. Don't you think it's a bit presumptuous to assume that I'd be sleeping in here?" His look was puzzled until I waved an arm towards my bag.

Edward smiled and raised an eyebrow at me. "You didn't seem to complain last night."

He made for the bathroom when I launched a pillow at him.

I slid back beneath the covers, enjoying the coolness of the sheets and the warmth of the sun as it bathed the room in warm golden light. I heard Edward in the kitchen and a few moments later smelled the coffee brewing. I stretched and rolled out of bed with a sigh, looking forward to whatever the day would bring.

* * * * *

We took a walk before breakfast, travel mugs of coffee in hand. He checked the woodpile, inspected some fencing that needed mending, and decided to call his contractor after scrutinizing the settling of one of the block outbuildings. Back at the cabin we made a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toasted bagels and fresh fruit.

I offered to clean the kitchen and Edward went back outside to check the fence again. I stepped outside for a cigarette and listened for Edward for a few minutes, but I was unable to hear anything but the rustling of leaves and calls of birds. Two shards of black cut against the clear blue sky; turkey vultures wheeling on the thermals. I finished my cigarette and breathed deeply. A girl could get used to this kind of quiet.

After I dried and put away the dishes, I moved to the great room where I'd left my knitting on the floor before the hearth. I gathered my pattern and yarn, and then sat in the chair Edward had occupied yesterday afternoon.

I organized my knit pattern and Alice's notes and noticed a few extra pages that I didn't recognize. One page had columns of numbers with odd notations, nothing that resembled any of the knitting terms that Alice had carefully explained. Percentages, numbers… had Alice inadvertently given me some of the work papers off of her printer when she printed me the copy of the scarf pattern? I made a mental note to give them back to her on Tuesday night.

I checked my watch; in twenty four hours we'd be heading back to civilization. I found my pattern and settled myself into the chair, recounted my stitches and started knitting.

* * * * *

The time passed all too quickly, and Edward dropped me off late Tuesday morning on his way into the office. I put away my laundry and took a nap, then headed to the café for a sandwich and to check my e-mail. Two messages from Renee; I sent her a quick reply that I'd been without Internet access for a few days but that everything was fine and I'd call her sometime this week.

* * * * *

**The Present**

I made my way downstairs, stowing my bag in the lockers before walking back towards Alice's office. She was finishing up a phone call, and I sat down in one of her visitor's chairs.

"How was your weekend?" she asked as she hung up.

"Very relaxing, thank you for asking." I stretched and yawned. "Plus, I got quite a bit done on the scarf." I pulled it out of my knitting bag for her inspection.

"Very nice, Bella! See? I told you that pattern would be easy to follow. Those UU girls on Ravelry know what they're talking about." She appraised my work with experienced eyes.

"Yeah, thanks to your notes – Oh, that reminds me…" I shuffled through the papers in my bag. "You must have given this to me accidentally when you printed off the pattern." I handed her the paper with the odd numbers and notations.

Alice frowned. "I don't think this is…" she trailed off, and then smiled up at me.

"Thanks, Bella." She stowed it in her desk. "So, tell me about your weekend!"

* * * * *

A half hour later I was in the bar, making the rounds. I said my hellos to the girls, to Tanya and Eric and James. I walked towards the first table of customers I saw and noticed that my calves felt tight; I hadn't worn high heels since Saturday night. I made a mental note to stretch again on my break.

I smiled at the man closest to me as the first notes of "How Soon Is Now" by Snake River Conspiracy blared through the speaker system.

"Would you like a dance?" I slipped my thumbs into the bottom of my bustier and pushed my chest out towards him, circling my waist on stationary hips. He smiled up at me and showed me a twenty. I moved closer, putting my right hand on the back of his chair, his left knee between mine. I continued the slow circle, my hips undulating as I moved in closer.

He looked up at me and smiled again. I returned the smile. He was cute, in a college-boy sort of way… but no Edward.

I closed my eyes.

_Edward._

I sighed as flashes of the weekend surfaced in my mind; bodies arched, lips hungry, teeth raking gently, the heat of flesh and intensity…

The song was over.

I stood, removing my knee from the chair where it was pressed against College Boy's… package.

I bit my lower lip and leaned forward. "Sorry about that… I guess I got a little carried away."

College Boy's smile widened. "Don't worry. Just between you and me." He glanced down at his jeans, and I saw his obvious erection.

I stifled a laugh and took the twenty, and then asked, "Anyone else?" His friends shook their heads, laughing. With a parting smile I moved on to the next table.

Three tables later I heard Eric introduce me to the stage. I picked up a chair next to the steps and carried it up with me, placing it in front of the pole.

I closed my eyes when I heard the opening of the harsh guitar. Foo Fighter's "Darling Nikki" was one of my new favorite gems.

Gritty, dirty.

I leaned back against the pole, slid down, swept my legs open, using my palms to close my knees before opening them again. I heard a whistle and smiled at College Boy; he and his buddies had moved to the edge of the stage where I was performing.

I stood, my back against the pole and slid down, reaching my arms overhead to grasp the pole. I lifted my legs in a cheerleader's spread to hoots from the crowd. I slid to the ground, then drew my knees in and used the pole to stand. I moved towards the empty chair, my mind remembering Saturday night, when it was Edward who sat before me, waiting, wanting.

I straddled the chair then sat suddenly, grasping the back of the chair with both hands, thrashing my hair around and around as I moved against the seat of the chair. I slid forward and leaned back, hair brushing against the floor of the stage, spreading my legs again, writhing against the chair, imagining his body against mine….

The song ended and I opened my eyes to applause. I collected the singles in my garter and walked down the stage to the bar.

"Hi, Tanya!" I sat and ordered a Diet Coke with lemon. "How did the weekend go?"

"We had a bit of an incident on Sunday night." She set my drink down and wiped her hands on a towel.

"What happened?"

"A group of college kids, harassed Ambre when she wouldn't dance for them. She was due for a break and told them she'd be back in fifteen minutes, but they caused a ruckus. It took both James and Laurent to get them out of here. Broke a chair in the process." She motioned to one of the tables to the left of the stage.

I raised my eyebrows. "Did he call the police?"

She shook her head. "James told them if he caught them in here again, he'd have them charged with trespassing and destruction of property. I think he knew one of them, because normally he would have called the cops right away."

I shook my head. "Jackasses."

She nodded.

I sipped my drink. "Laurent seemed a bit on edge tonight when I got here, I wondered what was going on."

Kara appeared at my shoulder. "Irina? There's a man over there who wants a dance. Table 13, baseball cap." She handed me a twenty and pointed to a table in the back. I waved at Ambre on my way towards the back of the club, checking table numbers as I went.

Seven… eleven… eight… _how did they have these things arranged again?_

The back corner was empty except for a lone table with a guy sitting facing the stage, texting on his phone. I glanced around; no one else with a ball cap. I held out the twenty.

"Kara said you wanted a dance."

He nodded but didn't say anything. I shrugged. _Whatever, dude. If you can't talk to the dancers…_

A remix of Bjork's "Play Dead" was next in the rotation, one of Betheny's contributions.

I stood with my back to him and closed my eyes, rotating my upper body, keeping my waist stationary. I bent at the waist, running my hands over my calves to my ankles, shaking my ass a little like I'd seen Rainn do. I moved back up slowly, twisting and swaying to the beat.

…_Don't you understand?  
I have to go through this  
I belong to here where  
No-one cares and no-one loves…_

I breathed, letting the bass beat drum into my chest as I turned.

I reached over and put my hands on either side of the back of his chair, popping my hips, moving closer as I flipped my hair backwards. I moved from side to side again, twisting my hips, closing my eyes. I slid down to the floor before him and looked up.

He lifted the bill of his cap slightly.

My heart stopped. My vision swam. The beat, the words, the song grew louder as the thudding in my ears threatened to overtake me.

_I play dead  
It stops the hurting  
I play dead  
And hurting stops_

He smiled at me.

"Hello, Bella."

_Oh, Jesus no… It can't be…No no no!  
_

_Mike Newton_

* * * * *


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Sorry to 'Newtonize' you at the end of the last chapter, but, alas, it had to be done.**

**AzureEyedI, the world's best beta, has two (TWO!!) chapters this week. Hot Lemony Supreme. Any better and it would be a cupcake.**

**UU – The best. If you don't stop posting all sorts of funny shit, I will never get this story done.**

**Chapter 18**

I sat, staring. Unable to move. He just kept looking at me. Staring back into my eyes.

I blinked and then opened my mouth. _For what? To say what?_

"How did you… how did you know…" I focused on breathing.

The smile didn't reach his eyes. "What? How did I find you?" He took a drink of the beer sitting on the table in front of him. "I'm not an idiot, Bella. I know your passwords. I checked your credit card online and saw that you'd changed your address." He shrugged. "Not that difficult, really."

He pulled out a chair from his table, and without a word, I stood, then sat.

"Why… why are you here?"

The ice in his eyes was unmistakable. "To bring you home. Where you belong."

I blinked, trying to clear my head. "No. I don't want to go home. I'm fine right here."

"It doesn't really matter what you_ want_. After all, your name is on the lease, so if you don't pay the rent…" he shook his head. "It's pretty pathetic that you won't live up to your responsibilities, Bella."

I cringed. I'd hoped… _what? That he'd realize I left because I couldn't take what he was doing to me? That, at the very least, he'd man up and do something as simple as handling his part of the rent? Why should that change just because I left? Why should _anything _change just because I was gone? _

I sucked in a breath, unable to speak. I just shook my head and looked down as the tears began.

He laughed, a derisive bark that I'd heard countless times before. "You can't be serious, Bella. You'd _really_ rather work as a stripper in a shithole like this than come home?" He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair.

He pointed at my garter, where a few singles stuck out. "Have you even looked at the other girls?" I looked around and saw Rainn, dancing for a bachelor party. Her garter was full, she had bills in her thong and the groom-to-be was drunkenly pushing a folded single into the front of her bra.

"Honestly? You aren't even that _good_ at it."

I cringed.

I'd had a month. Four weeks of time, to myself, on my own. And here it was, my seedy and desperate life, shaking my ass for a bunch of horny truckers in my underwear. Nowhere near as good at this as Rainn, or Ambre, or Betheny, or any of the other girls. I'd be lucky if I could pay the rent…

His eyes were steel. "How do you think Charlie will feel when I tell him what you're doing?"

I saw the baldness of his threat, but I was powerless against it. I sank down, beaten, and felt the abyss calling; the nothingness that usually found purchase when the alcohol flowed. It would be so easy to slip down into its warmth and misery again…

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a shaky breath.

_Get a grip, Bella. _

These same four weeks had also taught me to be self-reliant. I had gotten myself an apartment, paid rent, fed myself, hadn't had anyone cheat on me, threaten me, hit me…

I opened my eyes, tears threatening.

His eyes softened as he leaned toward me. "Bella, honey, I won't mention any of this to Charlie if you just come home. He doesn't need to know, I wouldn't want to worry him over this. Besides, I miss you. And Renee is worried; she won't stop calling me to ask if I've heard from you."

My brain felt thick, the threats and pleas swimming within my foggy psyche. The realization came very slowly, but it was there.

_He's lying._

"When's the last time you talked to Renee?" Careful, calculated.

"Just before I got here. I told her that I'd have you call her right away. She had no idea why you would leave me." He reached out to me in a gesture of comfort, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Why don't you come with me; the Suburban is right outside, you can call her on my cell phone while I drive you to your apartment to get your things."

I sniffed, taking a napkin to dab my eyes. Giving myself time. I caught Kara's eye and waved her over.

"Can I get you something?" Mike smiled brightly at her and ordered another beer.

Kara turned to me. "How about you, Irina?"

Mike snorted.

I looked at him carefully before turning to Kara. "I'll have a Boilermaker."

Her lips thinned minutely and she nodded, never taking her eyes off of me.

"I'll be right back with those."

I watched his eyes examine Kara's ass as she walked away.

Ten second later, Laurent and James appeared on either side of Mike's chair.

"Is there a problem, Irina?" James' jaw was a hard line.

I stood. "This is my ex-boyfriend. He stalked me here from Port Angeles, Washington. I need you to throw him out."

Mike's eyes were ice as he looked up at me. "Hey. I just stopped in to get a drink, and ran into… um, 'Irina,' is it? And turned out she's an old friend of mine." He smiled up at James and Laurent. "Isn't that right, _Bella_?"

I shook my head and looked down at him with steel in my eyes. "He's my abusive ex. He came here to try and get money from me. He threatened to take me back with him against my will. He's an alcoholic, and he appears to be intoxicated right now."

Laurent put a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Come with us, sir."

Mike's anger seethed and his façade of cool cracked. "You're going to believe this slut? Come on, I was just talking to her. There's nothing wrong with talking to her, is there? And I paid her twenty bucks!"

I took the twenty out of my garter and threw it at him.

"No, keep it. From the looks of it, you need it more than I do." His contemptuous sneer set my blood to boiling.

I felt my hands ball into fists, but I took a deep breath and turned, only to walk directly into Edward.

He caught my arms before I fell.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

My thoughts were wild. _What was he doing here? _I had a feral need to get him as far away from Mike as possible. "Nothing! Just some jerk who can't take no for an answer. Let James and Laurent take care of him." I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him along, willing him to just turn and walk away with me.

James and Laurent were in the process of hauling Mike out of his chair five feet away. "Hey, Bella! If you dance as well as you fuck, then you'd better plan on applying for food stamps!" He laughed at his joke and looked at James. "She was such a lousy lay."

Edward's face turned to stone, and his eyes narrowed. I pulled at his arm again, but he walked away as if I hadn't touched him, straight towards Mike.

I stood, rooted to the spot, watching their faces, gauging their responses. James and Laurent stood still, and then looked at each other and back at Edward. Kara had returned with drinks for another table, and stood, tray held before her like a shield. Her eyes widened and flitted to my face as Edward turned and stalked back towards me.

"Come with me."

His rage was palpable. He took my arm, gently but firmly, and walked as fast as he could through the bar. All eyes were on us; even Ambre stood still on stage, one arm around the pole, watching. Edward made his way towards the dressing area. He pushed through the curtain and banged open the door at the top of the stairs.

"Alice." It was loud, more than a statement; a command. Not a glimmer of question.

Alice appeared at the bottom of the steps almost immediately.

"Come get Bella. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Without a word, he turned and walked back into the bar.

"What happened?" Alice's worried face was enough to set the tears to pricking the corners of my eyes. I swallowed down the suddenly large lump in my throat and shook my head. I walked down the stairs and into her office, sinking down into one of her chairs, covering my eyes with my hands.

Alice handed me a bottle of water and sat next to me, waiting.

I shook my head, over and over. "This cannot be happening."

I felt her hand on my arm, but still she said nothing.

I wiped at my eyes and once I started, the words tumbled out. I told her about Dartmouth, and Port Angeles, and Mike's drunken binges; about English Tutor and packing up in the middle of the night.

Then the tears came, and I was powerless to stop them. "This isn't me!" I shouted. The anger was sudden. "I'm not a fucking stripper! I'm a good girl! I'm not a drug addict; I come from a decent family! I wasn't abused or molested. I don't have a bunch of kids with a bunch of different guys!" I swiped at my eyes. "And I don't make a scene in the middle of a strip club with my ex boyfriend, then go crying to my boss about it. I don't _do_ this. I'm not a stripper!" My hands were shaking.

Alice patted my arm again. "Bella, don't sell yourself short. Everyone has issues, regardless of what they do for a living. Everyone finds themselves doing a job that they don't enjoy at one time or another in order to get by."

I looked at her coldly. "Yeah, putting on clothes and working in an office filing paperwork is really up there on the Degradation of Society Scale."

She frowned. "That's not what I'm talking about. For some people, sitting behind a desk all day would be torturous. They have to be out, on the road, making sales calls or driving a truck. Everyone does a job they hate at one time or another. When you know what you hate, it helps you to see what you _can_ do, what you're _good_ at, what you _enjoy_." She took a drink of her water. "Do you think I would have such sharp business acumen if it weren't for my stint in a department store?" She cocked her head and tossed her hair. I smiled weakly.

"Bella, I know you just got back from a few days off, but I think you need to take a break from the club for a little while."

I stared at her through reddened, tired eyes. "What? You're firing me?" I demanded.

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. I just think that this isn't the best place for you right now. Obviously your ex knows you work here…" she trailed off, lost in thought.

I sat, waiting, my mind tabulating the money in my meager bank account, wondering how in the hell I was going to be able to pay rent if I couldn't work for the next few weeks. _I'm not on the books, so I can't collect unemployment…_

There was a bang at the top of the stairs.

"Alice." Edward again spoke with a commanding tone.

Alice took my arm and we went up the stairs together.

Without a word, Edward turned and walked down the hall into James' office. He closed the door behind us and we sat; me in the same chair I had occupied barely a month ago. He stood, pacing the small space.

"What did you say to him?" I demanded.

He didn't respond. He continued his pacing, then stopped abruptly and looked down at Alice.

"What is your opinion on how we should proceed?" He spoke as if to a teller, making a withdrawal from his bank account.

Alice sat back in her chair. "Obviously he knows she works here. So she can't come back for at least a few weeks, until things die down. If he's as volatile as she says… we don't want to have _anyone_ at risk." She squeezed my hand, giving me a small smile. "And if he knows where she works, then ten to one he knows where she lives. So she's not exactly safe there, either."

"I can't just leave!" I was desperate to say something, anything to contribute to this conversation. I was the root of this problem, and needed to be fixed, needed their help.

Edward looked at me briefly, then back at Alice. "She can stay with you?" Alice raised her eyebrows. "Well, under normal circumstances I'd be the first to say yes, but I'm staying with Esme while Emmett finishes the work on the master bath. And Rosalie is staying there, too, so…" she trailed off, and I understood. _Rosalie hated me about as much as a person could. The Perils of Psycho Mike weren't about to soften her up. _

I stood. "Is there a cheap hotel around here? I could probably stay away for a week, but I need to work." I held my head high, pretended that we were planning a business meeting, not discussing where my sorry stripper ass was going to crash.

Edward's look was indecipherable. He let a deep breath out through his nose.

"You will stay with me, then."

Alice nodded.

I blinked. "What? I don't get a vote?"

His lip twitched. "Under the circumstances, Bella, I would think you'd understand the graveness of the situation and be a little more appreciative."

Alice sighed and muttered under her breath. "Way to go, Edward…"

I ignored her. "So what? So little Mike is in town and wants to fuck with me. Big deal. I have a cell phone; I can call the police if I need to. I'll be fine." I was still standing. I turned to leave.

He reached out and took my arm. "Bella, I don't think you understand what we're dealing with here."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, Edward. I put up with his shit for five years. I think I can handle him now."

Edward set his jaw and his look was hard. "This isn't just about you, Bella. We've discerned that this man is dangerous. Anyone who would follow an ex-girlfriend here, then surprise her at work… there's no telling what he might do."

My eyes hardened. "You mean like you, following me around town? I guess it takes one to know one. Stalk much?"

His face turned fierce and even more beautiful. "You can't come back here for at least three weeks. I'm saying that as the owner of this property. If you step one single foot in here, I'll have you arrested for trespassing. "

I gaped at him. "Wait… _what_?"

He softened. "You'll stay at my apartment. You'll come to work at my office. My temp quit last week and I need someone to catch up on office work. You'll drive the truck to and from work."

I met his eyes, and felt the tears begin to well in them. The lump was back, and I couldn't trust my voice.

I looked down and nodded.

He looked down as if he had just realized he was still holding onto me. He dropped my arm. "Alice, could you help her get her things together? I want to leave as soon as I finish meeting with Peter Henderson about the Dalton Place project."

Alice met his gaze and nodded knowingly.

I watched him walk out of the room and turned to Alice.

"So, is he really meeting a client here, or was he just checking up on me?"

Alice met my eyes with a blank look. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Just being bitchy." I rubbed my hands on my suddenly chilly arms. "I need a drink. Join me?"

She smiled. "Sure. Let's get you ready to go."

* * * * *

We pulled out our stools at the same time, Alice on my left. I ordered a double, scoping the bar for any sign of Edward.

"He's not in here." Alice didn't look at me as she sipped her drink.

I watched her face as she smoothed the edges of the napkin underneath her glass, but she didn't elaborate.

Kara stopped next to me and placed a drink order with Tanya.

"Hey! Are you OK?"

I smiled weakly at her as I lifted my shot. "I will be, as soon as I have two or three of these." I downed the first one and put the glass on the bar. "Thanks so much for getting James and Laurent for me."

She shrugged and smiled back. "No problem. That's why we have a code, right?"

I nodded, rolling my napkin carefully between my fingers.

"What did Edward say to him?"

Kara seemed to be weighing her answer. She leaned in, looked me carefully in the eye.

"Edward said… he said if he saw him in here again, he'd kill him."

* * * * *


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**OK, kids, my super awesome Beta AzureEyedI is on vaca for the next 10 days or so, and the DH is off for the next two weeks, so I will be on a forced hiatus. I will do my best to write, but I can't offer guarantees as to when I will be posting. This story is scratching to get out of my head, as you can imagine.**

**For the UU bitches living in Fort Awesome, and keeping me on the straight and narrow with Grammar Rants. Yew no its not write when the story reaches its peek and the author is loosing her mind and feels like she's dieing !**

**Chapter 19**

The moon was high when we left the bar, its luminescence stretching taut across the sky. I followed it through the windows of the car, not wanting to lose sight of it as we wound our way towards Edward's apartment. It was solid, constant. Even on the nights you can't see it, the moon is still there.

I sighed when I remembered how large the moon had looked at the cabin, how the stars peppered the night sky. I had tried to open my eyes ever wider in order to see them all, take them all in at once. Wrapped in a comforter on the back patio that first night, fire burning in the outdoor fireplace, breathless with the newness and discovery.

My eyes welled and I swallowed a lump as I remembered _that_ conversation; reminded myself that this isn't a relationship, not even close. Tried to use that to help myself feel less embarrassed, less humiliated, less hurt… but all I felt was _less. _Less of a person, less of a woman. Why did I crave comfort? Why did I crave _his _comfort? Why couldn't Alice's gentle pats and kind reassurances give me what I needed? Why even now was I thinking of him, willing him to reach over and take my hand, give it a gentle squeeze, or a pat, remind me that everything was going to be alright? I took a deep breath and blinked angrily at the tears that threatened yet again, reminding myself. This isn't a relationship. That was made abundantly clear. I got myself into this situation, and I shouldn't be depending on anyone to help me out of it. I should be grateful for his help; I shouldn't be so needy. I squared my shoulders and firmed my jaw. Sex is just sex, even when it's great sex, it's still just sex. That's it. That's all we had. 

_But why is that not enough for me?_

I cringed as my mind sketched back over the events of the evening. All of my sins had been laid bare; Mike showing up tonight had to be the icing on the cake of mortification I'd been baking for the past month. The only reason Edward was even looking out for me now was because I was a liability. If I ended up dead in an alley somewhere, it wouldn't be too difficult to trace me back to the bar. And Edward. Would he be held liable? What would he say? Would he deny even knowing me? Would Alice back him up?

The thoughts and questions swirled through my brain, and I closed my eyes and put my head back on the headrest. Edward hadn't spoken a word since he asked me for my apartment key, making me stay in the locked and running Volvo until he'd made certain that no one was lurking inside my apartment. He'd stood in my tiny living room, checking his email and making calls as I moved from bathroom to bedroom to duffel bag, tossing in clothes and toiletries, packing up my iPod and laptop, sorting through the several days of mail that had cropped up.

I finished and stood, the few odd bags by the door, waiting. He took his time as he finished typing and hit send, then looked up at my belongings.

"Is this all?" He didn't meet my eyes.

I cleared my throat in an effort to dislodge the lump that had collected there. "Yes," I managed to croak.

He nodded and I watched his face, willing his eyes to look into mine, to see my appreciation.

He moved to the door and opened it, then picked up the bags and waited for me to lock it behind us. I moved away into the hall, and he set down my duffel and reached back to check the knob. Satisfied, he picked up the bag once again and started down the hall towards the Volvo.

Fresh tears sprang into my eyes as I thought, for the hundredth time tonight: How far removed this was from my reality.

* * * * *

I tossed and turned despite the comfort of Edward's bed. I blamed the moonlight streaming across the floor, but it was my jumble of thoughts that were the culprit of my sleeplessness.

He'd put my bags in his room and said that he'd sleep on the couch in his office for the duration of my stay. I felt the sting of rejection, as my last bastion of comfort strode out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

I climbed into bed, body fatigued from the crash after my adrenaline rush, but my mind refused to quiet. My brain replayed the cringe worthy scenes of the evening, and I closed my eyes in embarrassment. How must Edward view me now? I'd worked so hard to cultivate the appearance of independence, of strength, only to have it crumble in the face of my past. I tossed and turned before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

I awoke slowly, aware that the angle of the moonlight hadn't changed. I stared at the doorway, at the unmistakable outline of the figure there, backlit by the dimmed lights in the hall.

Edward strode noiselessly across the carpet towards the bed, face glorious stone in the half-light. He stood next to where I lay, and I watched as he reached a hand toward me. I rolled slightly, giving him access, as he reached to caress my chin. I sighed as he drew one finger down my neck to the divot between my collarbones, tracing lazy circles that made me shiver. I arched, feeling his weight on the bed next to me, rolling onto my back to make room.

His fingers were suddenly at my throat in a harsh grip. I tried to gasp a breath before the strength of his hands closed off my air. I clutched wildly at him, digging, scratching, clawing to get away. I looked into his eyes, the wordless questions at my lips, when I saw that the face was not that of my beautiful Edward.

It was the leering, hate-filled face of Mike Newton.

I opened my eyes, gasping for breath, tearing at the pillow on my face. My heart rammed against my chest, fear and adrenaline pouring through my system. I glanced at the clock; it was just after six. With a heavy sigh, I realized that I'd gotten less than three hours' sleep. From the shaking of my hands and continued pounding of my heart, I knew trying to fall back to sleep would be a worthless effort.

I stretched and got up, making my way to the bathroom. I figured I should probably brush my teeth just in case I happened to bump into Edward on my way to the kitchen. I surveyed my reflection in the mirror; hair and eyes wild, sleep lines crisscrossing my cheeks. I bit my lip, then hurriedly combed my hair and washed my face.

Ten minutes later I padded down the stairs quietly and peeked in Edward's office. It was empty; the lights were off and his laptop gone. My heart fell as I walked down the stairs, crossed the living room to the silent kitchen. I sighed, flipping on the light and going through the cupboards in search of coffee.

I saw the note, propped against the coffee maker.

Bella,

I set the coffeemaker. Just turn it on. Use this to purchase some clothing for the office. Consider it an advance on your first paycheck.

Call Alice if you need assistance, as I will be in meetings all day today.

--Edward

I flipped the switch on the coffee maker and picked up the thin, black card, weighing it in my hand. It was heavier than the normal plastic of my oft-used Visa. I looked closer… _holy shit, Edward gave me his AmEx Black!_

I sank down, elbows on the counter, and stared at the card. I couldn't remember all of the details, but I know it was super-exclusive; big bucks to even be considered and a huge annual fee. I looked around, blinking. Edward's business was obviously doing better than I had thought.

I made myself a cup of coffee and headed back upstairs to get dressed and call Alice.

* * * * *

"No, this one is perfect for you." Alice was holding up a cap-sleeved dress with a pencil skirt, measuring me with a practiced eye. I stood still, arms down, waiting for her appraisal.

"Definitely." She handed it to me to put on the 'yes' rack and turned to put together the next outfit from the rack of clothes before us.

We'd commandeered the three-way mirror at the end of a long hall of dressing rooms in the closest Neiman Marcus store, two hours south along I-5. I didn't know the name of the city, I hadn't been paying much attention as Alice navigated through the streets, chattering about colors and styles and maximizing the flexibility of coordinates.

The dress rack blocked the end of the hallway and I had given up going in and out of the small room, just changing before the mirror. I was quiet, a fact that hadn't escaped Alice's sharp notice.

"So what happened last night after you left?" Her question was intentionally casual.

I shrugged. "Edward took me back to my apartment to get my things and then we went to his loft. I woke up this morning to a note propped up on the coffee maker."

She nodded. "So he didn't talk to you about what happened at the club?"

I shook my head, surprised to find my eyes filling with angry tears.

"I don't know what happened. It's like he went from being easy, sweet Edward to an ice carving." I sniffed, my eyes burning. "I don't understand why he's so angry at me. It's not like I invited Mike to the bar to make a scene and threaten his precious club."

She hung up the charcoal gray pencil skirt she was holding and reached for my arm.

"Bella, you have to understand that up until now, Edward's priority has been the business. I told you before to be careful, that he isn't your traditional guy when it comes to relationships. But now… well, you aren't just an employee to him. Or, to me for that matter. I know how much _I_ care about you, and for Edward to take it upon himself to protect you in this way… well, it's obvious that you mean a great deal to him. It would take an idiot to not recognize that."

I stared sullenly at the floor. "Well, I guess I'm an idiot, then. He hasn't spoken two words to me since last night, and that was only to tell me to give him my keys so he could check my apartment."

Alice put both of her hands on my shoulders and looked at me, forcing me to meet her eyes.

"Bella. Edward cares about you. He is bending over backwards to make sure that you are safe from this very dangerous situation. He's a little gruff; it's his nature to be that way when someone he loves is threatened."

My heart hitched, and I wondered wildly if I had imagined what she'd just said. I raised an eyebrow at her incredulously.

"Love? Seriously? 'Cause if this is how Edward shows love, then I'd rather he hate my guts, thank you very much."

I started stripping off the outfit I was wearing in preparation for the next one Alice had readied. Yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn't quell the surge of hope I felt at her words.

* * * * *

Three hours later I was back at Edward's loft, a slew of nice clothes in garment bags hanging in the closet. Along with two suits, one in dove gray and the other dark chocolate, Alice had selected a black jersey knit dress, two knee-length pencil skirts (the charcoal-gray one and on in black), and several blouses and sweaters in complementary designs and colors. Stockings, underwear and several pairs of shoes ranging from flats to three-inch heels rounded out my haul. It had gotten to the point where I'd closed my eyes to keep from looking at the price tags. When Alice asked why, I explained that I would be paying for these clothes for the next six months of paychecks. She laughed and told me that Edward should have known better than to tell me to go shopping with her if he had expected anything less than _quality_.

Alice was appropriately impressed that Edward had entrusted me with the AmEx Black card, and had set me straight; the _company_ did not have anAmerican Express Centurion card, (she also corrected me on its proper name), but _Edward_ did. So it was on his personal account, after all. I smiled a little to myself as I pondered my contribution to the annual quarter-million purchase minimum.

I closed the closet door and checked my watch: Two o'clock. I wondered what time Edward would be home as I mentally sketched out plans for the afternoon. I could drive to the library, or to the park to take a walk, or find a bookstore. After a minute or two of indecision, I settled on checking out the yarn store Alice had pointed out on our way back to the loft this afternoon, grabbed my bag and the keys to Edward's truck.

* * * * *

New Journey Fiber Arts was a small shop nestled among storefronts a few blocks away from the WiFi café. Compared to the shops across the street, the green and white striped awnings had been recently replaced and the burgundy paint was fresh. I wondered fleetingly if Edward's company had any ownership of these buildings.

I parked the truck in an open space and nearly had a coronary when I pushed the panic button on the key fob. I made at least six attempts to mash the little red button, the truck finally stopped honking at me, and I turned to escape into the shop.

A small bell on the inside of the door announced my arrival, and a woman standing behind a counter turned to smile at me. She had thick, silver hair that hung to her shoulders in a blunt cut and a pair of reading glasses perched the end of her nose.

"Sorry about that." I mumbled, heading to a display case of recent pattern books and magazines.

"That's all right. Woke me up from my nap." Her smile broadened; it was genuine, infectious. I found myself smiling back.

"Can I help you find anything?" she asked. Not pushy, just helpful. I relaxed.

"My friend says that this is the best yarn store around, so I thought I'd come in and check it out." I said. "I was thinking about trying socks, but I want to try them one at a time and my friend always knits hers on two circular needles." I shrugged, as if it should be abundantly clear that I was not capable of contemplating knitting two socks simultaneously.

"Well, I'm honored that someone would call us the best yarn store around. I don't even care that mine is the _only_ yarn store around." She laughed, and I caught a twinkle in her blue eyes that made me think fleetingly of my grandmother. I had a sudden, distinct memory of her little ranch house in Phoenix; how her iced tea was always brewed and served with honey, never sugar; teaching me to play King's Corners at the kitchen table; the large brown easy chair she favored for watching her soap operas and crocheting. A wave of pure homesickness washed over me with such force I gripped the corner of a wooden box displaying cashmere.

Her eyebrows creased with worry. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. She took my arm and led me to a large oak table, simple and rectangular, with several baskets of yarn and a few pattern binders sitting on top. She pulled out a chair for me and I sat, bag in my lap, and sighed.

A minute later, a glass of water was on the table in front of me. I looked up at her gratefully.

"Thank you. I just felt a little light-headed for a minute."

I thought for a moment._ How was she supposed to know that I'm not a diabetic on the verge of insulin shock?_ "I'm so sorry if I frightened you."

Her return smile was one of relief. "A few weeks ago, one of my regulars had a bit of an episode; she fainted and we called the paramedics. Turns out, she was just a little dehydrated." She shook her head. "I guess I'm a little on edge now when someone who comes into the shop appears to be a little green around the gills."

I nodded.

"I'm Madelyn, by the way." She reached out a hand for me to shake, and I took it, smiling.

"Bella."

She nodded. "So, who is the friend who speaks so glowingly of my humble shop?"

"Alice Cullen. Do you know her?"

Her response left no doubt. "I adore Alice! She's such a lovely girl. How do you know her?"

I picked up one of the balls of yarn sitting on the table. "We work together." I ran my fingers over the soft fiber.

Madelyn clasped her hands. "That's lovely! Alice is an excellent teacher, very patient. I've told her many times when she's ready to retire from the demands of corporate management, she should come to work for me and teach knitting."

I smiled. "My work schedule recently changed a bit, so I won't be able to have Alice teach me."

She nodded. "Well, I haven't done a set class for socks in quite a while, since there hasn't been much interest, but I can certainly get you started with the basics; materials you'll need, casting on and joining, following a basic sock pattern. There's an informal knit group that meets Thursday nights, another one on Friday mornings. You're welcome to stop in any time. I'm usually here, even if the store is closed. I live upstairs." She pointed to a small set of wooden stairs behind the counter. "If you see my Toyota parked around back, then you know I'm here." She beamed.

She was so genuine, so kind, I couldn't help but return her smile.

"Alice tells me that if I'm not careful, you'll get me addicted to sock yarn."

"What is it she calls it? 'Knitter's crack.'" She laughed. "Why don't you step on over here, and I'll help you with your first fix?"

* * * * *

I chose a variegated washable self-striping sock yarn of cobalt blue with gray accents. Madelyn suggested that I start out with bamboo, and although I was concerned that I would break the slender wooden needles, I found that the stitches seemed to stay put.

She'd shown me a basic sock pattern, explained the terms that were not yet familiar to me, and used her own sock in progress to help me visualize the different points of the pattern.

I managed to successfully join my cast-on stitches on three double-pointed needles, and was on my third round of knit 2 purl 2 ribbing when the door opened.

"Bella!" I started at hearing my name, and looked up to see Edward's pale face twisted in a combination of anger and relief.

I was shocked to see him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were working all day?"

He looked at me pointedly. "It's almost six o'clock."

I looked at my watch. "Oh! I completely lost track of the time! I had no idea… well, I didn't know when you were going to be home, and I didn't want to waste my afternoon doing nothing at the apartment, so…" I smiled weakly. "Have you met Madelyn ?"

Edward turned to where Madelyn was coming out from behind the counter. "Well, if it isn't young Mr. Cullen." She smiled, and he smiled in return, taking her hand in both of his.

"How have you been?"

She smiled. "Can't complain. Bad for business if I do!"

He laughed and she put her arms around him in an affectionate embrace.

"How is Esme doing? I haven't seen her in ages."

"She's well. Busy as ever."

Madelyn nodded knowingly. "Aren't we all?" She patted Edward's arm and turned to me.

"So, I take it you know young Mr. Cullen, here?"

I nodded, and opened my mouth, then closed it immediately. _How to explain our relationship to a stranger when I can't even understand it myself?_

The bell on the door jingled, and Madelyn excused herself to assist the new customer.

Edward walked towards me, taking the seat at the head of the table, next to where I sat. His voice was low, but controlled, his eyes afire.

"Bella, I called home and you weren't there. I called Alice, and she said that she'd dropped you off around one. I tried your cell phone, but there was no answer." He ran his hands through his hair in agitation. I didn't say anything.

"Please, Bella." His voice stayed calm, but the look in his eyes was unmistakably pleading. "I need you…" he took a breath, "…please, just make sure that you let someone know where you are going to be. I can't afford…"

I had never seen Edward at such a loss for words. _Let me guess; 'I can't afford the bad publicity if the stripper living in my apartment turns up dead'? Yeah. Got it._

I looked down and busied my hands gathering my things. "Sorry. I left my phone in the truck. I didn't mean to upset you."

He didn't say anything. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I longed for him to embrace me tightly, to tell me he had been worried about me, to nuzzle his lips against my hair and kiss my cheek and breathe a sigh of relief. I ached to hold him, to feel the touch of his hands on me, to find comfort in his protection, to relax against him.

I collected my bags, thanked Madelyn and told her I'd be back for her next knit group, and walked out of the shop. Edward reached out to hold the door, but I carefully avoided looking at his face. I fumbled with the keys, and after two unsuccessful attempts to unlock the door, he held out his hand for the truck keys. I stood on the sidewalk as he loaded my bags into the truck. He turned to look down at me, and as I met his molten brown eyes, I thought strangely of the sun; how its heat and warmth and light are necessary for survival, but looking directly at it will make you go blind.

I stared down at my hands. The distance between us was inches, but at the same time felt like light years.

I heard him sigh and he held out the keys to me.

"I'll follow you home."

* * * * *

**A/N**

**Welcome, shoppers! Fifth Floor: Angst, reviews, love and double-pointed knitting needles.**

**Fanfic recs:**

**The Fixer by AzureEyedI**

**The Submissive/The Dominant by Tara Sue Me**

**The Screamers by KiyaRaven**

**All MATURE, all on fanfiction, all lovely in their own awesome ways. Check them out!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Thanks, everyone, for your patience. Real life encroaches on the writing sometimes. I decided to post this chapter early since you are so great.**

**Special thanks to AzureEyedI for her mad beta skillz. And her new Robatar, which is keeping my motor going.**

**Hey to all my UU girls, you keep me laughing with your inventiveness and crotchsplosions.**

**Chapter 20**

Dinner had been quiet. I fixed sandwiches and while we ate, Edward gave me a basic outline of his former temporary's office duties; phone answering, appointment making and filing. He excused himself and disappeared into his office to make some calls, so I cleaned the kitchen, and then sat in the living room with my knitting. He never reappeared, so I went up to my room around ten and called Alice to plan my outfit for tomorrow.

At six the next morning, I was staring at myself in the mirror. I had decided to follow Alice's advice and pair the gray pencil skirt with a Champagne-colored silk blend sweater and peep toe black pumps. I slicked my still-damp hair back into a high ponytail and put on mascara and chose a lipstick in a shimmery brown.

_Like his eyes…_

I closed my eyes and shook my head, willing my brain to erase the surge of heat that rose in me. "No." I said it aloud. "It's done."

I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection again. I creased my brow in concentration. "It's done," I repeated.

_Liar._

With a sigh, I headed downstairs.

* * * * *

Edward was on the phone when I walked past him, and as I checked the coffee pot I wondered what other masochist could possibly be up and working at this hour.

"…I'll have my assistant fax those to you as soon as she gets into the office. What's the number?" I listened as he recited a 212 area code. _New York. That's why._

I found a travel mug and poured myself a cup, then turned to see Edward eyeing me. I held up my mug, _do you want me to pour you one? _His eyes finally met mine. He shook his head and looked back down at his papers.

_Okay… Sorry for trying to be helpful._

He was on another call already, and I grabbed my backpack and coffee mug as he maneuvered his rolling briefcase and laptop case. He handed me the keys to lock the door behind us as we headed to the garage together.

The call continued as we drove to the eastern side of downtown, and ended as we hit the parking garage for his building. He waved at the attendant and we drove through, parking in a numbered spot close to the elevator door.

We got out of the car, and I grabbed my backpack and coffee while he extricated his bags from the back seat. He locked the car and looked at me as we walked towards the elevators.

"You look very nice today, Bella."

I looked at him from the corner of my eye. "Thank you, Edward."

The elevator doors closed behind us.

I watched Edward's face in the reflection of the mirrored doors, and saw him frown.

"What is it?" I asked. _Did I spill something on my skirt already? Had I forgotten to take off one of the tags?_

"We'll need to find you a briefcase. You'll need something that will fit your laptop and other items for meetings. Why don't you give Alice a call this morning." It was a statement, bordering on an order. Definitely not a question.

I looked at my backpack, which had gone from somewhat worn to rat-bitten in the span of fifteen seconds. I hadn't thought it was _that_ bad, but I guess in this business, appearance was everything. I nodded.

The doors slid open and we exited into a large lobby, dark and hushed at this early hour. Edward picked up several newspapers that lay on the floor before the two large doors with "The Cullen Group" etched in large white letters on the clear glass.

He unlocked the doors and held one open for me, then locked it behind us. I surveyed the waiting area, with several large, comfortable looking couches and a large coffee table. He dropped all but one of the newspapers on the reception desk and turned to me.

"Helen answers the phones during the day; she's usually in at eight-thirty. Before and after hours, calls are routed to the voicemail system. If a caller dials your extension, the call will ring through on your line. My calls will ring on your phone, and you should do your best to answer them before they go to voicemail. I'll give you the password for retrieving my messages so that you can e-mail them to me if needed."

We were walking down a long, wide hallway with offices staggered on either side. I noticed black and brass nameplates on the doors; one said "Alice Cullen" and another "Emmett Cullen." He paused to unlock a door at the end of the hall and I noticed that there was no small plaque mounted next to the door as with the other offices.

He opened the door and turned on the lights, and I blinked.

His office was large, with windows spanning both outside walls. The walls were a steel blue, similar to the color in Alice's office but with a touch more gray. Just across from the door, next to the windows, was a large, square work table. At the far end of the room sat a large cherry desk and credenza that appeared to be exactly the same as the furniture in his home office. Also similar was the level of cleanliness; other than his phone and a few papers, his desk was empty. Large black and whites prints of construction sites and buildings lined the inside walls. I wondered idly if he'd taken the photos himself.

Edward dropped the rest of the newspapers and his briefcase on the work table and motioned me outside and across the hall. "Here is your work area." The cubicle was quite large compared to others I've seen, encompassing the entire corner directly opposite Edward's office. The outer walls mimicked the color of dark-stained cherry, while the material covering the inside was a muted shade of gold. An organizer hung directly inside the entryway above the main workspace, upon which sat a laptop and copyholder. Plexiglas at the top of the wall acted as a sound barrier, but let in natural light from the windows across the hall. Several large filing cabinets took up the majority of the space, and a printer and fax machine sat side by side on top of one of the cabinets.

"The laptop should be ready for you to use, you'll have to call technical support to get your login and email access. We run wirelessly, so you should be able to access the network from any office in the building."

He turned and motioned for me, so I pushed my backpack underneath my desk and followed him.

We walked down another long hallway, and Edward stopped in front of a large set of double doors.

"This is the executive boardroom." The room was large and sparsely furnished, with a bank of windows along the far wall. A large mahogany table filled the room, and comfortable looking chairs spanned both sides of the table. At one end was a cabinet with several remote controls sitting on top. At the other end was another door.

Edward opened that door to show me the kitchenette beyond. "Sink, refrigerator, coffee pot, dishwasher. There should be a list of caterers in your work area for lunch and dinner meetings." He showed me a silver ring with four keys. "This is for the front and side door, this one is for my office, this one is the boardroom and this one is to the washroom." He pointed to the large cherry doors across the hall from the boardroom entrance.

He closed the doors behind us and we headed back down the hall towards his office. "Someone from Human Resources will be bringing you the new-hire paperwork. After you get logged on to the network, please come into my office and we can go over the schedule for the week. Do you have any questions?"

We were back at my cubicle, and I looked around once before shaking my head.

He started to turn, but stopped.

"By the way, this is my In Box." He pointed to the organizer hanging just inside the entrance to my cubicle. "Most people will put their papers on your chair, but I only use this. So you should check it often."

He looked down at me, and just for a second, his all-business mask fell away. I could see the old Edward in his eyes, the Edward from the Wifi Café, the Edward from our picnic, the Edward that found me in the park and took me to lunch.

I cleared my throat. "I just wanted to say… thank you. For everything."

His eyes were bright, the lightness of them almost disconcerting. He reached to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, and I felt the warmth of his finger long after he had withdrawn his hand. He smiled at me, and I smiled back in a rush of warmth and emotion.

He stepped back and looked down at the papers in his hand.

"These are… a fax. I need you to send to this number in New York. As soon as you get a chance."

He nodded, then turned towards his office.

I heaved a sigh. _Time to get to work._

* * * * *

The morning passed in a bit of a whirlwind; the woman from Human Resources helped me fill out my paperwork, I managed to get a handle on the filing system that Edward's previous assistant used, and the tech support girl, Colleen, got me up and running on the network. I figured out the naming conventions on the server and mapped my folders, then set up my e-mail passwords and listened as Colleen explained how to switch back and forth between Edward's email and mine in order to respond to messages for him.

"Mr. Cullen has two email accounts; one is for his private use, the other is for press releases, interoffice messages and official emails. You're in charge of the formal account. The marketing company we use drafts press releases and sends them to you; you send them to specified email lists from Mr. Cullen's account. Are you familiar with how to do email merges?"

I nodded. "What if something comes in and I don't know if it should be sent from Ed—um, Mr. Cullen's, official account?"

Colleen shrugged. "Your best bet is to check with Alice, or ask Mr. Cullen himself if it is important enough. Alice is most often available; it's usually difficult to catch Mr. Cullen."

There was a wistful note in her voice. I watched her closely for a moment, but her face didn't change. I didn't know her well enough to know why, but I filed it away for future reference.

After Colleen left, I'm not ashamed to admit that I scrolled through Edward's business e-mail account. I convinced myself that I wasn't being nosy, since I was responsible for everything sent from that address. There were various press releases, information on board meetings, and interoffice messages regarding upcoming client visits to the office ("please remember to dress appropriately in business attire, taking care to straighten your workspace"). I located the e-mail lists used for merges and archived them in my user folders.

Edward's door opened around eleven-thirty and I poked my head in his office. "Did you want to go over the schedule now?"

He looked at me blankly, and then checked his watch. "Oh… sure. Why don't you order us some lunch from Fontaine's. Chicken salad on wheat."

It was my turn to look blank. "Um, Fontaine's?"

He smiled. "The café. Remember?"

_The café where we met is named Fontaine's? I can't believe that I didn't know that!_

I returned his smile. "I just always thought of it as 'the WiFi Café'."

He laughed lightly. "Order yourself something, too. Here are the keys to the Volvo, in case Geraldine can't do a delivery." _And they deliver… something else to file away for future reference._

I took the keys and nodded thoughtfully. I stepped closer to his desk and lowered my voice.

"You know, everyone in the office calls you 'Mr. Cullen.'"

He nodded, waiting.

I twisted my hands. "Do you… I mean, would you prefer…" _How to phrase this without sounding like a complete idiot?_

He immediately understood what I was asking. "Depending on the circumstances…" now it was his turn to mull it over. "Whatever is comfortable, Bella. I trust your judgment."

_Well, _that's_ a first._

* * * * *

At one o'clock Edward looked into my cubicle.

"Bella, I have a meeting at one-thirty and need to check on a project, but I'll be back by the end of the day. Emmett's assistant is printing the documents for the Northgate project; I'll need you to assemble 25 copies. Feel free to use the work table in my office."

I nodded. "I'll see you when you get back?"

He smiled. "Of course."

* * * * *

There's something satisfying in the monotony of collating. Walking around a table, laying page after warm page in neat order, creating stacks of information. I hummed along to Olive on my iPod, one ear bud in and one out in order to hear the phones.

There was a light knock on the door, and I looked up to see Alice's smiling face.

I just barely stifled a squeal and moved to give her a huge hug. "How are you doing? Is everything OK? Is he being nice to you? Let me see how you look!"

I laughed and straightened myself, turning for her appraisal. She nodded approval and we both grinned. "So far everything is… fine. He's being… nice. A little businesslike, but I have to admit, I like it."

She nodded. "He's nothing if not businesslike."

I nodded in agreement and crossed the hall to my work area, dropping my iPod on the desk. "So, Alice, what are you doing here?"

She looked at me with mock surprise. "Why, I work here, of course!" We exchanged grins. "Actually, Esme is using the boardroom for a meeting with a new client and I wanted to see her."

"That reminds me!" I told her about visiting New Journey Fiber Arts, meeting Madelyn, and her inquiry after Esme.

Alice quirked one perfect eyebrow. "Didn't she know that you've never met Esme?"

I shook my head. "She asked Edward."

"What was Edward doing there?"

I affected a sour look. "Looking for me."

Both eyebrows went up this time as I explained my mishap with the cell phone and Edward's tracking me down at the yarn store.

She shook her head in what appeared to be awe. "I'm going to start calling him 'The Bloodhound.' He sure can sniff you out, can't he?"

I felt color flood my cheeks, and she laughed. "Come on! I want you to meet Esme!"

* * * * *

Esme Evenson Hale was a small woman with a sweet face. Her light hair hung to her shoulders in a fashionable cut, and she looked very put together in a light pantsuit with low heels. I held out my hand, but she hugged me tightly when Alice introduced us. "It's so nice to meet you, dear. Alice has told me so much about you."

For a moment, I thought wildly that she was referring to dancing at the club. I groped for a reasonable response. "Madelyn from the yarn store said to say hello." It was the only thing I could think to say.

Esme nodded. "I haven't seen her in a long time. I really need to get in to see her." She checked her watch politely.

"Do you need any help setting up for your meeting?" I offered.

She smiled. "Oh, Bella, that would be wonderful. If you could help me to get the projector working, it would save me time and foul language. Alice, dear, could you give Bella a hand?"

Alice grumbled good-naturedly and we got to work.

* * * * *

A half hour later I was back in Edward's office, putting the finishing touches on the stacks of proposals. I glanced out the window, wondering idly how Edward's meeting had gone. It was over an hour since I'd last checked his e-mail account, but nothing of great importance had come in all day, so I doubted that there would be anything there. But if something had, and I'd missed it… my eyes roved through the parking lot below as I moved toward his desk. I stopped short when I noticed the shiny silver Volvo in the lot below. Was Edward back from his appointment? If he was back, he wouldn't need me to forward him any messages. I stood motionless, watching. The Volvo's windows were tinted so darkly that I couldn't detect any movement inside. Had he taken a different vehicle to his appointment, and the Volvo had been here all along?

Just as I was thinking about calling him on his cell phone, the Volvo's driver's side door opened, and Edward emerged. My heart hitched as I watched him move quickly to open the passenger door.

Out stepped Rosalie.

A shock of electricity coursed through me. _What was Rosalie doing with Edward?_

* * * * *

**A/N** Hmmm… what _is _Rosalie doing with Edward?

Next week, lemony goodness. Just ask my beta, AzureEyedI, who just got out of the shower after reading Chapter 21. Oh yeah. MMMM-hmmmm....


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**AzureEyedI, let me count the ways that I love you. Purveyor of hoboliciousness, mad beta skillz and general fuckawesomeness.**

**UU is so awesome, even non-knitting fanfic writers join to revel in our smut and happenstance. I heart you all so hard, and mash your love buttons with every finger I have.**

**WARNING: Lemons. Nofuckingshit lemons. Under 18? Getyer sorry prepubescent ass out of here straightaway. I mean it.  
**

**Chapter 21**

I felt a twinge of jealousy as I watched Rosalie, blonde hair long and loose, tall and lean in a short skirt and heels.

I scoffed. _She looks like a stripper even when she isn't at work._

I chided myself. I knew I was being petty, but I suddenly felt reduced to a mouse in my conservative gray suit. It didn't matter that I was doing it to myself.

I watched as she leaned over to hug Edward and kiss his cheek before straightening her too-tight sweater, pushing back her fall of blonde hair, and stepping into a red BMW convertible. Edward closed her door and she gave a little wave before pulling out of the parking lot.

I knew it wasn't mature, but I seethed with irritation. _What the hell was she even doing here?_

I put the last of two proposals together and called Emmett's assistant to have them bound. Then I paced his office, waiting.

_Waiting for what? What would I say to him when he got here? 'I saw you with Rosalie'? So he knows you were watching him? Stalk much?_

I realized that I had no reason to be standing in his office, since the proposals were finished. I dashed across the hall to my cubicle, almost running into Emmett's assistant, and she gave me a strange look (of course). I sat ramrod straight in my chair, scanning frantically for something to do. I lurched towards the laptop, pulling up my email to check for new messages.

"Hello, Bella, I'm back." Edward dropped a few papers into his In Box and smiled at me briefly before turning towards his office.

My heart rate slowed and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before walking towards his office.

I glanced at the now-empty work table. "Emmett's assistant is binding the proposals."

He looked up at me and nodded. "Thank you."

I waited. "Um… I checked the email but there was nothing of importance." I furrowed my brow in annoyance. "A lot of junk mail comes to that account."

He smiled. "That's why I have an assistant to weed through it for me."

"So I'm like a living, breathing spam filter?"

He arched an eyebrow at me, and my breathing hitched.

"Um, is there anything else you need?" I cursed myself silently for not being able to keep the stammer out of my voice. _It's only a fucking eyebrow, Bella! Get a hold of yourself! _ I thought of Rosalie and her tight sweater and blonde hair, and I lifted my chin and looked him squarely in the eye.

"I think that's all for now. I'll be ready to leave for the day around five."

I nodded, standing straighter than before, and turned to leave his office.

* * * * *

Edward had a dinner meeting with a client, so we made our way to the Valley Country Club. The client called to say he was running late, so we ordered and spent the time discussing a few of his upcoming projects. I didn't make any mistakes with the silverware, and although Edward ordered a bottle of wine, I only had one glass. I was determined to stay sober and in control of all of my faculties this evening.

The client finally arrived, and after an introduction (as his assistant, of course), he and Edward talked shop for several minutes. I had the opportunity to watch Edward as he talked, intent on explaining details of one of his upcoming projects. He was studious, intense, and businesslike, which disturbed me for some reason I couldn't put my finger on. I came to the slow realization that 'businesslike' was exactly the word I would use to describe how Edward had been treating me for the past few days. I breathed a sigh as I considered the odd contradiction my relationship with Edward had turned into. In the past week I'd gone from sharing his bed to sharing his apartment, although the arrangement could not be less romantic. Since that night at the club, he hadn't even looked at me with any level of interest. I looked down at the fork in my hand and poked at my pasta, appetite gone. I sat back in my chair, sullenly wondering if he'd looked at _Rosalie_ with any interest today.

I eyed the bottle of wine for a moment before forcing myself to look away. Another glass wouldn't accomplish anything positive for me tonight. I picked up my water glass and waited for the dinner to end.

* * * * *

"It seems like a sound venture, but of course I have to investigate it further."

We were in the car on the way back to the apartment, and Edward was detailing a side project that Sutter had approached him about investing in.

I thought for a moment, digesting the information he'd just given me. "So, he's planning on constructing a medical building downtown, and he wants you to be an investor? And you'll lease medical office space to doctors and medical laboratories?"

Edward nodded.

I shook my head and frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."

I turned to look at him, the headlights of oncoming cars illuminating his face in flashes. "What do you mean, Bella?"

I took a deep breath. "I was just reading the paper the other day about how, even in smallish towns like New Journey, people are leaving the urban areas for more suburban-slash-rural regions. Hospitals are putting their money into satellite facilities instead of expanding their downtown hospitals because nobody wants to go downtown anymore. And older people use doctors more than most people, so it would make sense to put the medical buildings where they are."

I thought about stopping myself, in case I sounded stupid, but decided to barrel on. "They're finding that older people, who statistically stay put even when their neighborhoods start getting bad, are more willing to sell their homes and move. Do you know where they're going?"

Edward didn't respond, but he glanced at me to show he was waiting for my answer.

I leaned towards him. "Assisted living facilities." I nodded and sat back.

I expected him to say something, to laugh or roll his eyes and tell me I was stupid, but he didn't. He pursed his lips, and I could tell he was mulling over my statement. I felt a little thrill of pride that I'd presented him with an idea that he was taking seriously.

"Why do you think that is?"

I bit my lip, considering. "Well, the Baby Boom generation is aging at an exponential rate. With increased age comes an increase in health problems, which translates to an increase in health care access. Lots of Boomers are looking to simplify, and the older ones are downsizing their homes and going to tiered assisted living facilities. They have the freedom they need, but as they age and need more assistance, they can get it from the facility without moving or making drastic lifestyle changes. From what I've read, a facility like _that_ sounds like a much better investment prospect."

He didn't say anything as we pulled into the parking garage, and the silence continued as he pulled into the spot and turned off the engine. The quiet was unnerving and I found myself starting to fidget, wishing (and not for the first time) that I could read his mind. We gathered our bags and walked into the building without a word. As the elevator doors closed behind us, I saw his reflection, eyebrows drawn together in thought.

He turned to me, and my heart thudded.

"Bella, how would you like to help me with research on a new project?"

* * * * *

It was after midnight and I was still awake. Edward and I had continued our discussion about assisted living facilities, but I didn't have much information to relay beyond the few articles that I had read recently. He outlined what kind of data he needed, and my mind was off and running. I'd set up my laptop on the bed, and now I checked my watch again and yawned, stretching the kinks out of my lower back.

My body ached with tiredness, but I couldn't get my brain to shut down. Not even the knowledge that I needed to be up in less than six hours could convince my brain to shut the hell up and go to sleep. I wondered if Edward had herbal tea in one of those kitchen cupboards.

I opened the bedroom door, putting on my glasses as I headed down the stairs. There was no sound coming from Edward's office, but I saw light from the television flickering underneath the door. I stopped, trying to decide what to do. I could save myself a trip downstairs by asking him. Who knows? If he's still awake, he might want a cup of tea, too.

I threw caution to the wind and tapped lightly on the door with my fingernail, waiting for a response. I didn't hear any movement or see any shadows that indicated he was moving towards the door. I held my breath and reached up again, this time turning the knob.

The door opened silently and I peered inside. The television was muted, casting its light around the room. My eyes adjusted, and in the subdued glow I saw Edward, clad only in sleep shorts, sprawled across the couch.

A small part of my brain told me I was intruding, that I should shut the door and go on my way, but instead I stood watching, unable and unwilling to tear my eyes away from him. His glorious tousled hair, his strong jaw now slack in sleep. I sighed as I realized that every look I'd managed to steal over the past several days had been either surreptitious or under the guise of discussing business. Now I could gaze upon him uninterrupted. I feasted on him with my eyes, like a famished person who doesn't comprehend her hunger until she smells the delicious banquet spread before her.

And then she is ravenous.

I moved closer to the couch, standing against the back of it, looking down at him in his most vulnerable. For a moment I thought wildly of climbing onto the couch, sliding next to him, covering his body with mine, seeking his lips, his tongue, awakening him as I was now awakened.

I sighed as I contemplated his reaction. I was sure it wouldn't be lustful and beautiful. It would probably be more along the lines of push me off the couch and order me from the room.

I sighed again and turned for the door when I heard him move.

I froze, watching him.

He tossed on the couch, his words unintelligible. He moaned, and as he turned his head to lay on the soft pillow, I heard him sigh.

"Oh… Bella."

My heart jolted, and for a moment I thought he'd wakened and was talking to me. I stood, still as a statue, and my pulse slowed as I realized that he had only been talking in his sleep.

He'd been talking in his sleep _to me._

I felt a swell of joy as I moved silently out of the room, closing the door behind me, and fled noiselessly up the stairs back to my bed.

* * * * *

The next morning I stood before the mirror, dressed in yet another muted outfit. I smiled a little to myself as I turned, noting that the bright cobalt blue of my bra did not show through the black silk-blend V-neck sweater. I had thigh-high stockings underneath the black knee-length pencil skirt, and I was pleased to see that when I reached my arms up over my head, the tops of the lace stockings peeped out.

I twisted my hair into a neat chignon and secured it with a dark clip, then strode across the room to find my high black heels.

If he was going to dream about me, I was going to give him something to dream about.

* * * * *

The day passed relatively uneventfully, and I had precious little time to spend on researching the new project Edward wanted me to work on. I was amazed at how many times a press release needed to be proofread (didn't anyone at the marketing firm know how to spell?) and spent a great deal of time on the phone organizing the catering for an upcoming open house that the company was holding for a newly-finished construction project.

At six-thirty, I stuck my head in Edward's office. He was on a call, so I walked to the window, waiting for him to finish up. I stood, looking down at the empty parking lot below, the silver Volvo the lone vehicle left. I supposed that I would want to get out of here, too, if not for the opportunity to spend the extra drive time sitting next to Edward.

He replaced the receiver and looked up at me, expectantly.

"Did you know what time you plan on leaving tonight?" I asked.

He checked his watch and raised his eyebrows. "I have another call to make, and I don't know how long it will be… if you want, order in some dinner. Does that sound OK?"

I nodded. "I didn't have much of a chance to do research on the new investment project, so that will work just fine."

Forty minutes later, Edward and I were sitting at the project table in his office, sharing Crab Rangoon, Cashew Chicken, General Tso's Chicken and fried rice out of take-out Chinese food containers.

Edward demonstrated how to hold my chopsticks properly, but I just stabbed my chicken pieces with my stick and shrugged. It might not be the right way to do it, but it certainly got the job done. He laughed, and there was a glimmer of the Old Edward there; hiding just beneath the surface.

I had to admit, it was comfortable. I felt a stab as I longed for the relative simplicity that we had just a week ago. I watched him as he speared an errant piece of chicken from his container a la Bella and smiled to myself. Then I wondered idly if he'd gone on any picnics lately.

Reluctantly I stood, gathering the now-empty containers together to take to the kitchen. I turned on the light in the kitchen and dumped the empty containers into the garbage, checked the dishwasher and saw that someone had run a cycle earlier. I started unloading the coffee cups and saucers, reaching overhead to put them away into the cupboard.

I started when I saw him, standing stock still in the doorway. He looked at me, looked _through_ me, and for a moment I thought wildly that I'd tucked my skirt into my underwear. Then I remembered I had on precious little underwear, and felt the heat of my blush spread from my neck upwards. His expression didn't change, and I followed his gaze down.

In reaching overhead, my skirt had ridden up, exposing the lacy tops of my thigh high stockings. I smiled to myself as I realized what he was looking at so intently, and felt the flush of heat wash through me, this time not embarrassment, but desire.

I dropped my arms and turned towards him. I tried to think of a snappy comment, something seductive and sultry, but words failed me. So I stood, silent and still in return, watching him.

His face was a mask of longing, touched with an anguish that I had never seen before. His eyes darkened and he looked down at the containers in his hands. I looked down, too, and realized that this was the reason he'd followed me into the kitchen. I sighed and reached down, opening the cupboard door that housed the garbage can. Without a word, he dropped the containers into the trash, turned and left the room.

I stood, listening to the quiet pad of his shoes as they moved down the hall, and when I got to his office, he wasn't there. I blew out a breath and sat down heavily in my work chair, prepared to spend a few hours concentrating on my research project. Ten minutes passed and again I heard his footsteps. He stopped in the entrance to my cubicle, and I mustered every ounce of nerve in order to refrain from looking up at him.

He cleared his throat and I glanced up at him.

"Bella."

I waited.

The anguished face again; the unmistakable lust tinged with pain. I kept my face as impassive as possible in return.

He muttered an oath under his breath and turned, hands in his hair, and headed back into his office.

I slumped, throwing my head back against my chair, defeated. I screamed at him from within my head. _Come on, Edward! I'm right here! Tell me you want me! _

I couldn't take it.

I stood, taking off my jacket and straightening my skirt. I checked my stockings and pulled myself up to my full height, then marched across the hallway into his office.

He was in his chair, head in his hands, elbows on his desk. He started when he noticed me, and pushed back his chair, ready to stand. I crossed the room quickly, maneuvered around his desk and turned his chair to face me. He sat back, careful to look only at my face.

I leaned down towards him, hands on the top of his chair, and brought myself down to his eye level. My heart was thrumming in my chest like a wild bird caught in a cage, and I wondered briefly if he sensed my urgency. I struggled to keep my voice low and steady.

"What is it that you want?" I asked, my eyes never leaving his. He returned my gaze but didn't say a word.

I stood and slowly placed my right heel on the left side of his chair. I pulled up my skirt slightly, showing my lace-topped thigh high stockings. I leaned towards him steadily, whispering.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" I leaned in again, eyes still locked on his. I felt his hand on my ankle, moving up my leg, to my outer thigh, squeezing gently. I suppressed a moan and moved closer to him. He slid his hand around to my inner thigh and I felt the gentle shock of pleasure coursing through me, felt my breathing hitch, felt my desire intensify.

His hand moved higher, cupping my ass, squeezing again, harder this time, with more urgency. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, waiting for his hand to move again, waiting…

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, his face a tortured mass of emotion. I saw fear, anguish and pain flash across his countenance in quick succession. He finally opened his eyes and raised them to meet mine.

"Bella, I…"

I froze, a deer in headlights, waiting. Wishing wildly that I could reverse this scene, go back out into my cubicle, never walk in, never put myself here, in this position. _Please don't say it, Edward. Please don't tell me you don't want me. Please, I am begging you; I don't think I can stand it…_

"Bella, I can't."

I straightened, adjusted my stocking, and brought my foot down from his chair as nonchalantly as possible. I stepped back, still within his grasp, but just far enough away to give myself some space. I watched him, saw his face, still agonized. His gaze dropped to his own hands, limp fingers, palms turned upright on his lap.

I backed away several more steps, willing his eyes to meet mine, but Edward just continued staring down at his hands. He looked at them as if they had moved on my body of their own accord and he was deciding how best to punish them for their misbehavior.

Finally, I wheeled and stalked out, stopping short at my cubicle. I needed to put more space between us, so I turned right, heading to the washroom, before realizing that I'd forgotten my key. I kept walking, clearing my thoughts. I needed a cigarette, but they were in my bag, which was in my cube, of course. I settled on going outside for some fresh air before going back up to my cube and starting on the research project, as if the last ten minutes had never happened.

I got to the far side of the floor before realizing that I needed my _key_ to get back inside. Dejected, I gave up and turned to make my way back through the darkened hallways.

I turned the corner and stopped. Edward was standing in the hallway in front of the open boardroom doors, the glow of the parking lot lights illuminating him with its odd white light. I couldn't tell what he was doing, what he was seeing. I shifted my weight, continued looking at him, and saw that he was watching me. I breathed a sigh, straightened my back and walked towards him, but he didn't move. I stopped in front of him and looked him squarely in the eye.

"May I borrow your washroom key? I forgot mine at my desk."

His expression didn't change. His eyes never left mine as he reached into his pocket for his key ring. I held out my hand and he placed them into my palm. Without a word, I turned towards the washroom door, but he grabbed my wrist and turned me back, pulling me to face him. In a split second my heart was beating frenetically, adrenaline and lust coursing through my veins. I gazed into his eyes; saw they were dark with heat. I dropped my gaze to his lips, thinking that would be a safer place to look, but I remembered the feel of them on my mouth, my skin, my….

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, trying to ignore the emotion and desire that crashed through my system. I felt a finger tracing the ridge between my eyes, then along my eyebrow, down my cheek. I waited, letting his caress calm me. The finger continued its lazy journey along my jaw, down the front of my throat, to the hollow between my collarbones. I breathed a sigh, feeling the lightness of his touch send a spray of gooseflesh across my skin.

His breathing had changed. I hadn't noticed it before, but now I could hear the ragged breaths, the pull of oxygen through his mouth as he stood before me. His fingers clamped on my shoulder and suddenly his mouth was at my throat, teeth skimming, nipping. I gasped and my eyes flew open, seeing only his hair darkened by shadow. I moaned, closing my eyes again, and his mouth moved from my throat to my jaw, kissing where his fingers had been just moments ago. I felt a wave of need flow through me, and my body moved closer to his, aching for his warmth and his touch. His mouth moved away from my skin; my eyes opened, my body distressed by the void, and I stared at him, my desire for him naked on my face.

Neither of us had spoken, and the air between us hung quiet, molten with intensity. Slowly, carefully, as if I were a small sparrow he didn't want to frighten, he lowered his lips to mine in a gentle brush. In his kiss I tasted his hunger, his sadness, his need. I felt my body respond to him, and I stepped closer, feeling his solidity against me as I moved.

The movement was sudden, and it took me off guard. I felt his hands heavy on my shoulders, running down my arms, and then one finger was sweeping down the V of my sweater. It moved gently across the top of my breasts, and then he was crushing me to him, surrendering his control and kissing me savagely. The air around us caught fire, our desire consuming us. I felt him, his pronounced need against me, and I briefly cursed myself for wearing a tight skirt. I needn't have worried, as he reached down and pulled my skirt up to my waist roughly and bent, running his hands along the tops of my stockings, a deep rumbling sigh in his chest. In one swift movement he straightened and lifted me against him, and I wrapped my legs around him, pressing him against my own need, fighting to maintain my control.

He backed through the boardroom door, kept walking backwards, bumped into a chair, tried to thrust it aside with his hip. I placed a well-aimed kick, and the chair toppled onto its side. Edward sat on the edge of the table, and I straddled him, moving my knees to sit on either side of his thighs. He leaned back and I pushed him down onto the table, pulling my skirt up farther, moving onto the table until his head rested between my knees. I looked down at him, his skin reflected in the outside light, and pulled my sweater over my head. He moaned, and tried to move his arms out from under me. I squeezed my legs to keep his arms where they were, and he acquiesced. I pulled the clip out of my hair, shaking it out over my shoulders in waves. I ran my hands over my breasts, humming gently. His eyes were on me, all over me, moaning in appreciation. I pinched my own nipples, and felt him buck against me. I smiled and pinched again. He let out a strangled moan, and the sound hit me at my core. I stilled, waiting to regain my control, then lifted my skirt again, showing him the bright blue thong I wore underneath. His eyes were on me then, watching as I slid my fingers along the outline of my thong, up and down, around the top, down to the bottom as far as I could reach.

When I slipped a finger inside of my thong, he growled. I probed my folds with my finger, hidden behind the bottom of my thong, and he struggled again to get his hands free. Again, I tightened my legs against him, keeping him immobile, keeping him at my mercy.

He stilled, and when he was watching me again, I pushed a finger inside of myself. I moaned at the pressure and the friction, probing gently, using my other finger to circle my clit gently. I pushed against my hand, and found that I had to struggle against the wave that threatened to overtake me. I stopped, withdrawing my fingers, reaching down to run them along his lips. He sucked at my fingers, licking them, wetting them with his own saliva, and I returned to exploring myself.

Edward's eyes were glazed in desire, and finally I pulled aside my thong, showing him my wetness. He growled again, and lifted his head to taste me. I let him, holding myself above his head as he used his tongue to explore my heat, my desire. My climax roared over me and I came, gripping his head, his tongue thrusting into me, welcoming the physical release of my pent-up yearning.

Then I was abruptly on my back, Edward atop me. He was pulling his dress shirt apart, buttons flying, one pinging gently off the window, one bouncing along the table. He pulled back to take down his trousers and I reached for him, fumbling, needing his closeness.

He was naked when he pressed against me once more, and I felt my desire surge again, my appetite whetted by his passion, his hardness. I explored his body with my fingers, pulling him to me hungrily, closing every ounce of space between us. The heat of his skin jolted me, making me aware of my own need, and I reached to free myself from my thong. With a grunt, Edward reached down, fumbled for a moment, tearing it free from my body, running his hands over me after tossing the tattered cloth away.

I raised my hips to meet him, he entered me swiftly, and I cried out. The fullness of him, the remembered joy was nothing compared to this new, needy love. I had been deprived of his touch, of his lips, his tongue, his manhood, and I craved him. I wanted him; wanted to absorb his essence, to draw him into me, pull as much of him inside of me, hold him here, keep him.

We were greedy, taking our pleasure, fulfilling our desires, pounding our bodies against each other, against the table, surging against one another in the moonlight that filtered through the windows above us. I called out to him, called his name, begged him for another release, and he growled in return, thrusting, joining, stroking, keeping me at the edge as I thrust again to meet him, feeling the whole of him fill me as never before.

I urged him closer, digging my feet into his back, wondering briefly if the high heels of my shoes would leave a mark, gripping him tighter and hoping they would. Our bodies met, again and again, pulling each other ever closer, the slickness drawing us nearer, until I felt myself begin to clench around him, my eyes boring into his, I called out to him in the force of my climax. Immediately he groaned, whispered my name hoarsely and I felt him release into me, back arched, the sounds of pure pleasure coming from his mouth sending fresh roll of chills along my spine. The thrusts, the heat, our flesh slicked with sweat, lips swollen, need sated, we sighed together and sank down into the comfort of our love.

* * * * *

**A/N They totally needed it. I mean, hell! It's not right to keep them apart, right? We'll see how things go next week… maybe Bella will grow some balls. 'Cause that's how she rolls.**

**I'm going out of town for a few days, so won't have much writing time this week. I will do my best to post Chapter 22 by next weekend, but can't promise.**

**Thanks for the reviews, you guys are awesome!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Sorry this one's a bit late, but I hope you'll understand. Real life and all.**

**Thanks to AzureEyedI, Beta Queen and purveyor of porntacular photos of His Hobolisciousness. Love you with all my twisted little heart.**

**UU hoors, the best as always.**

**Readers, every single one of you make my heart trip when you make the traffic on my little fic soar. Loves you.**

**Now it's time for Bella to grow a set.**

**Chapter 22**

We lay together atop the mahogany boardroom table. My elbow hurt, my thigh was in an awkward position, but I refused to move. I was afraid that, if I moved, the spell would be broken; he would shake his head and come to, and anger or resentment would darken his perfect face. I lay instead with my head on his arm, concentrating on the sound of his heart beating instead of my cramping leg.

Other than calling out a few times to each other and to God, we hadn't spoken a word since we'd been fully-clothed and standing in the hallway.

How do you start a conversation after having earth-shattering sex on the boardroom table with your boss?_ 'Baby, that was great. Hey, I think I forgot to email the final draft of that press release to the mailing list.'_

I sighed again, and felt the warmth of his other hand on my arm, rubbing gently. Suddenly he stopped.

"I just realized… we forgot… I mean, I wasn't prepared, didn't have any…"

I nuzzled his chest, kissing him lightly. "Protection? Yeah. Don't worry. Alice got me a prescription. We're all set."

His sigh of relief was pronounced.

I laughed a little to myself. _How ironic that when I finally started taking birth control we stopped having sex? Good thing I'd kept it up._

I shivered a little, the mind-blowing sex of the past half hour a fresh memory.

_Very, very good thing._

Edward moved a little, and groaned.

"Are you OK?"

I felt him nod and stretch.

"Yes, just… well, this table isn't exactly my bed."

"Yeah. You've probably forgotten what your bed feels like, huh?"

He didn't reply.

With a heavy sigh, I sat up and reached my arms overhead, stretching my back, then set about adjusting my stockings. I wondered idly if they'd been torn considering the heavy action they'd just seen.

I found my voice and decided to use it. "Edward, I would really, _really _like to know what the fuck has been going on between us since the incident at the club last week. You've barely talked to me, you barely look at me, and act like I'm… well, an _employee_, not your girlfriend. And I don't even think I've ever _been_ your girlfriend, so I don't know why this is bothering me so much, but it is. And now, we have the most amazing, mind-blowing, lust-filled sex ever in the history of humanity."

I kicked off my shoes and padded to the doorway, flipping two switches before finding the muted up lighting. I waited for my eyes to adjust, watching him. He was still for a moment. Then, with some effort he sat up and began collecting his clothes.

I waited.

I watched him running his hands through his hair, weighing his response.

"Bella, I am a businessman. First and foremost, I have a job to do, and I do it well. I have never been romantically involved with any of my employees. I have dated casually, but never in the office."

"I'm sure that there is no shortage of women here who are upset by that fact."

His expression was unreadable, but if I had to guess, he was incredulous. "What makes you say that?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I spent ten minutes with Colleen from Tech Support, and she never stopped checking to see if you were going to open your office door and come out. She had on fresh lipstick and perfume. I think somebody has a crush."

He hadn't moved, and his face was blank. I got down on all fours to search for what was left of my thong.

"I had no idea. I would never have guessed…"

I laughed. "Please, Edward. Do not tell me you have no idea the affect you have on women."

He didn't return my laugh, didn't say anything at all.

I sat back on my heels. "Come on, Edward. You haven't seen how women act when you're around? How that redhead at the Whisky stood up and pushed out her boobs when she was talking to you? How Rainn acts when you're around? Oh, and speaking of 'golden showers…'" _I was really on a roll, _"What was Rosalie doing here yesterday?"

He froze. "When did you see Rosalie?"

I detected the change in his demeanor but continued as if I hadn't noticed. Looking down again, I pretended to scan the floor for more of his shirt buttons. I found my sweater and turned it right side out.

"I saw her in the parking lot and figured she was here to see Emmett." I looked up in time to see his face relax.

"Yes, well, I don't know about that."

I waited, but he didn't say anything else. Finally I stood, put on my sweater, adjusted my skirt.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Which one?"

My frustration soared. I hated that he was making me lose my post-coital happiness, the little afterglow that I so enjoyed, that I'd missed so much. I gritted my teeth and leveled a glare at him.

"What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On. Between. Us." I spoke slowly, as if to a mentally deficient child. He returned the glare.

"Right now? A potential sexual harassment lawsuit, that's what's going on." His hands were frenzied, pushing into his hair, pulling at the top until it stood in a crazed halo around his head.

I gave him a look and shook my head. "First of all, stop with the weird hair thing. It used to be cute, now it's just an annoying tic, like a preschooler with Tourette's who constantly drops the f-bomb. Second," I walked over to him and dropped the three buttons I'd found so far into his waiting palm, "If anyone is eligible to sue for sexual harassment, it's _you. _After all, _I'm _the one who came on to _you; I'm _the one who pinned _your _arms and made you give me oral pleasure on the boardroom table."

His face no longer had that drawn look of uncertainty. He smiled at me, that lopsided grin that still had the ability to make my heart skip. I shook my head.

"Can we please put the employee shit behind us? I think we can agree that we're both mature enough to carry on this—_whatever _this is that we have going on—like adults. We can sleep in the same bed, drive to work together, hang out or... not. I'm a grownup, Edward. I can handle it."

I looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "I've been tiptoeing around this past week, completely off-kilter, totally unsure of what the situation is between us, and I'm tired of it. I don't deserve to be left in the dark about what you're thinking, especially when it's concerning _me_."

I stepped closer to him, wanting him to understand the importance of what I was going to say next.

"And don't you ever – _ever –_ try to decide something about this thing we have without my say." I raised my hand to stop him from speaking. "I understand that the whole situation with Mike and the club had to be dealt with, and you were only handling it to protect everyone involved, but I will _not_ be handled like a real estate deal. You should have talked to me and gotten my input instead of making all of the decisions. How do you think it made me feel to have everything decided for me regarding where I was going to be living and working without even being _consulted_?"

He waited and I nodded my head to let him know I was finished.

"Bella, I went into immediate protection mode when I saw what was happening that night. And, yes, I was concerned about the bar, the other girls, Alice, the bartenders, the security team… this one guy had the potential to harm a lot of people. It's not just my livelihood we're talking about – the financial situations of many people are at stake. When a dancer is threatened, the response must be quick and decisive. If dancers don't feel safe, they leave. If patrons don't feel safe, they don't come back."

He put a finger under my chin and lifted it until I met his eyes.

"I am so sorry for not taking your feelings into account. All I could think about was making sure that you were safe… I admit that I felt something that I have _never_ felt before; sure, I've had problems with clients that brought out the protective side of me. But it was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw that Mike was threatening you. I consider myself to have a great deal of self control, but when I saw him leering at you, talking to you as if you were dirt beneath his feet…"

He trailed off, eyes flashing, and turned to finish redressing as best as he could. I looked down, remembering Mike's words, the fear and loathing, the edge of the pit calling to me…

I shook my head and moved to the chair I'd kicked over, pulling on the arm to right it. Edward reached out and grabbed the other arm, and we settled it into place. I moved around to the other side of the table, casting my eyes back and forth across the floor, looking for errant buttons and clothing in the dim light. I felt Edward's eyes on me and turned to look at him.

His expression was unreadable. He shook his head and stepped towards me. I watched as he came closer, an arm's length away, then right in front of me.

His voice was a whisper.

"You know, he was lying to you."

Lying? About what? About Renee knowing where I was? I already knew that. That I was good enough, pretty enough to make a living dancing? I took a deep breath, still wondering about that myself.

His eyes shone, reflecting the light above us. He reached a finger out to trace the contour of my cheek. "You are a phenomenal lay. I've hardly been able to keep my hands off of you this past week."

I felt the heat of my flush cover my cheeks. "You could have fooled me."

I heard his low chuckle. "I can see you blushing even in the dark."

I was about to retort that he was the one who should be blushing after we desecrated the boardroom table, but was stopped by a noise.

When our eyes met, Edward's was grim.

"The cleaning people."

We dashed around the room, straightening chairs, doing a final sweep for buttons and grabbing my tattered thong off the floor. I stuffed what I found into the pocket of my jacket, decided to dispose of it at home. Much safer than here, that was for sure.

I slipped off my heels and we tiptoed back down the hall, Edward into his office and me into my cubicle. I relaxed when I hit my chair, pulled my hair up into a clip and left my shoes off. When I heard the broom closet in the hallway open and close, I made a production of getting up and going into Edward's office and asked loudly what time he planned on leaving. He responded in kind, telling me he'd like to leave in a half hour or so.

Satisfied that the cleaning lady, a Russian lady in her mid-fifties, was getting the right impression, I sat back down at my laptop, too wired to start doing any research. I briefly debated sending inappropriate emails to Edward's personal account, but decided against it. That seemed just a bit over the line. I giggled to myself, wondering where having a superfuck on the boardroom table fell on the spectrum.

I spent the next twenty minutes going on Ravelry and reading up on the gossip on some vampire movie being filmed in Vancouver. I reached for my backpack and remembered Edward's admonishment to get a briefcase. I pulled out my cell phone and called Alice.

"Bella! How is everything going?" I could hear the thudding of loud bass behind her.

"Great. I'm at the office right now, we're getting ready to leave." I wondered if Alice would want to stab out her mind's eye if I told her what exactly had transpired in the boardroom an hour ago and had to stifle a giggle.

"Listen, Edward wanted me to call you… I need a briefcase. Large enough to hold my laptop and basic meeting supplies. Do you have any idea where I might find one?"

"Sure. What color are you looking for?" The bass was subdued now, and she sounded like she was walking. I wondered if she was headed back to her office at the club.

"I'm not sure… black I guess."

Alice huffed a little. "I'll see what I can do. Oh, I'm going to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, and afterward I plan on stopping by the yarn store before I have to come in to the club. Why don't you come with me? Madelyn just got a new shipment of Koigu and I am dying to feel it up."

I promised I'd call her tomorrow, and clicked off. I turned to put my phone back in my bag and was startled to see Edward standing in my cubicle doorway.

"Was that Alice?"

"Yeah. She's going to look into getting me a briefcase. And she asked me to come with her to the yarn store tomorrow after work. When do you think we'll be done here?" I was doing such a great job of acting like we hadn't just ravaged each other sinfully. I squinted to see which buttons were missing, but his shirt was perfect. I wondered if he kept extra shirts hidden somewhere in his office.

He nodded. "I'd planned on leaving around six, but I have a dinner meeting. Why don't you see if she can bring you back to the apartment?"

I smiled. "Sounds good."

He smiled back. "Ready to go home?"

* * * * *

I woke the next morning at five-thirty, and the first thing I did when I opened my eyes was smile. I rolled over to see the outline of Edward's back, and reached out to run my hand from his shoulder down to his waist. He sighed and rolled towards me, turning my back to his chest and pulling me against him in one fluid movement. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his nose in my hair. I was so comfortable, so satisfied from a good nights' sleep, I wanted to lay there for hours. But the alarm clock rang, and Edward grumbled and reached out to shut it off with a sigh, then snuggled back down against me beneath the covers.

"Do we have to go to work?" I asked, only because I didn't want to get up.

"I have a breakfast meeting with Peter Henderson, a lunch meeting with Davis Portless and several phone calls to make before lunch… although I wouldn't mind staying here for several more hours…"

I grinned and rolled to the side of the bed with a sigh.

* * * * *

Edward dropped me off at the office around seven before heading out for his breakfast meeting. He'd invited me along, but I explained that I hadn't even started on the research for the assisted living facility project, and figured that I would have a good hour and a half before I had to start answering his phones.

I smiled to myself as I thought of how he'd caught me just before I'd opened the apartment door, kissing me deeply, leaving me breathless, telling me it was the last kiss we'd share before we returned home tonight.

I understood the inference that last night in the boardroom was an anomaly, that it wouldn't happen again, and that we'd be nothing short of professional in all business situations. But I smirked a little as I thought about just how unprofessional I'd been.

Boy, was it ever worth it.

I stooped to pick up the newspapers and unlocked the doors, glancing at the headlines as I walked in. I dropped all but one copy on Helen's desk and took the other back to my cubicle, reading as I walked.

There was an article on tiered assisted living facilities in the Business section, and I glanced through the paper to find it, settling into my chair to read. I stopped at the front page of the Metro section, where a photograph jumped out at me. The tall, smiling black man standing before a dilapidated building looked familiar to me, but I couldn't immediately place him. I read the caption:

_Ward 4 Councilman Xavier Leeds wants to encourage business growth in the Warehouse District._

Beneath the photo was a short article detailing Councilman Leeds' recent proposal to rezone certain commercial areas in order to allow artists to live and work in the same space. He had gone on record as a strong opponent of rezoning, but had recently changed his position entirely, now supporting the zoning modifications. He had enormous backing from business interests, but some in the community were concerned about the potential dangers of drastically modifying zoning and the differences in residential building codes.

I dropped the paper to the desk as the realization hit me; Xavier Leeds was the man I remember seeing Edward talking to at the Whisky. I sat down and scrutinized the photo more carefully. The dilapidated building in the background was the Myrtle Building, one of the projects that The Cullen Group was working on.

My wheels started turning. I booted up my laptop and started Googling.

* * * * *

I spent the next hour reading up on Xavier Leeds and by the time the other employees began coming in at eight-thirty, I had more questions than answers. Leeds had graduated from Crenshaw High School in L.A. and worked for several years in the City Controller's office before taking a job as the federal Youth Apprenticeship Program Coordinator, working as a liaison between the city and the unions to hire youth from public housing. He left abruptly and took a position with the New Journey Mayor's office twelve years ago, and ran for the Ward 4 Council seat two years later. One of the articles that I'd managed to find (thank God Edward had given me access to the LexisNexis account) indicated that Leeds had switched positions on a number of issues he'd made during his campaign, siding in the end with business interests.

My phone rang, and I shoved the papers into my backpack to read later.

"Bella, it's Edward. Did you happen to check my messages this morning?"

"Yes. In fact, I was just going to call you," I lied. "Did you know that there is an article on Xavier Leeds in the paper today? All about how he's supporting the zoning changes to the Myrtle Building. Isn't that one of the projects that we're working on right now?"

Edward's tone was even. "Yes. I'm glad to see he's finally seeing the light on the revitalization efforts we're making in his Ward." He paused. "Did you say that there were any messages?"

"Oh, sorry. Can you hold on a minute?" I put him on hold before he could answer and pressed the other line, quickly checking his voicemail. I breathed a sigh of relief and switched back over to him. "Sorry about that… there weren't any messages when I checked, and your line hasn't had any calls yet this morning. Do you still have a lunch meeting or do you want me to order you something?"

"I have a lunch meeting but we're going to switch it to the office. Can you make sure my laptop is ready to go in the boardroom? And would you please order in lunch for six from Fontaine's? See if they can deliver by twelve-thirty."

"Wait, let me check to make sure the boardroom is free." I flushed as I remembered our tryst less than twelve hours ago and heard his low chuckle. I grinned and resisted the temptation to tell him exactly what would go on in a boardroom meeting where he and I were the only attendees.

I shook myself out of my little daydream and checked the schedule. "You should be fine; Alice has the boardroom booked at three. And don't forget I'm going to the yarn store after work."

"I hadn't forgotten. If she won't be able to drop you off at home, just give me a call. We'll work something out."

* * * * *

After returning several emails, installing Edward's laptop in the boardroom, calling for a catering quote and scheduling the lunch order, I devoted an hour and a half to researching the population trends of fifty-to-seventy-year-olds in northern California. I read article after article on the need to structure new neighborhoods with aging Boomers in mind, how to attract the dollars of 'mature' Americans, and polls citing which health issues are paramount to AARP subscribers.

"Bella, we're here." Edward smiled at me as he passed by the entrance to my cubicle into his office. Several men followed him in to his office and stood chatting. I trailed behind them, asking if he needed anything for his meeting, confirming that his laptop was ready and lunch should be delivered in an hour. He nodded and picked up several files from his desk.

"Bella, you remember Davis Portless."

I nodded and extended my hand. "Of course. Mr. Portless, how nice to see you again." It was the client that Edward and I had had dinner with at the country club several nights ago. Fat, balding, beady eyes, sweaty palms. It was an effort to smile.

Portless nodded at me and introduced me to his associates. I smiled politely and tried to ignore their blatant stares.

_Just because you don't have a stripper in your lap doesn't mean you aren't a pig. _

"Gentlemen, let's move to the boardroom. Lunch will be along soon."

The men turned and moved out of the room and down the hall. Edward hung back for a moment.

"I need you to pick something up for me." He handed me the keys to the Volvo and a piece of paper. "That's the address. Bring it directly into the meeting as soon as you get back."

His eyes were intense. "It's very important."

I nodded. "No problem."

* * * * *

Ten minutes later I was following the cheery voice of the GPS as I went about my errand. I smoked a cigarette and felt the oddness of driving around town during the middle of the day when I'd normally be sitting at my desk. I savored the break as I wound my way through the streets.

11904 Buchwald was a small office in a nondescript brick building with several businesses at street level and apartments on the second floor. The paint on the window trim looked fresh, and I wondered idly if Edward had a percentage of ownership of this building. There was no name on the door indicating a business, and it seemed rude to barge in. I turned the knob slowly, and when the door opened, a small chime rang somewhere in the back.

"Hello?" I called.

A man stuck his head around the corner. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up a package for Edward Cullen." I assumed it was personal business, not 'Cullen Group' business, since he had sent me instead of using the courier service.

The man disappeared for half a minute before walking through the doorway. He looked to be in his early forties, gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, a week or so of growth on his face, old flannel over a t-shirt and jeans.

He didn't smile.

He handed me a large manila envelope and nodded at me before turning and walking back through the doorway. I waited for a minute, but he didn't return, so I left and walked back to the car.

I got in, tossing the envelope onto the passenger seat, wondering what was so important. I stared at it for a moment, before picking it up again, turning it over in my hands. No markings, no notations, no names. Just a plain manila envelope. I slid my finger underneath the edge and was surprised to see that it wasn't sealed; the flap was closed with a simple two-prong clasp.

_It's none of your business. It's probably just a counter-proposal or a competitor's bid that Edward got his hands on. _

My heart raced. I knew it wasn't my business, and every fiber of my being told me to leave it alone, that I was probably better off knowing. But sometimes we don't listen to the smart part of our brain, the part that tells us to put down that cigarette, give your keys to your friends, tell that guy no since he doesn't have a condom.

And you regret that decision for the rest of your life.

* * * * *

A/N: So. What's in the package? Sorry kids, you'll have to wait 'til next week to find out.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Chapter 23**

I dropped the envelope onto the passenger seat, lit a cigarette and waited. I looked for a sign, something to tell me whether or not to open it; _if a car pulls into that parking spot in the next minute, I'll open it. If not, I'll leave._

Nothing happened.

_If I like the next song that comes on the radio, I'll open it._

I hate Creed. I changed the station.

_If someone comes out of one of these shops in the next five minutes…_

I was stalling, and I knew it.

I tossed the butt out the window, took a deep breath, and opened the envelope.

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later I pushed through the boardroom doors without knocking. One of Davis Portless' lackeys was explaining why their company was choosing to hold out against acquisition, and his sentence died on his lips.

I strode towards Edward, dropped the envelope into his lap, turned and left, slamming the door behind me.

I got to my desk and sat down, my hands shaking. Thoughts and questions whirled in my brain like a dark, sucking vortex.

_How many others?_

_How often does he do this?_

_Who is next?_

I needed to move. I grabbed my keys and headed towards the washroom. I watched as the boardroom door opened and Edward emerged with Portless right behind him. He stood chatting as he unlocked the men's washroom and herded Portless' underlings inside.

Edward turned. "Davis, could I have a word privately?" I saw Portless shrug before turning back into the boardroom. Edward shut the doors behind them.'

I waited until Davis' minions were in the restroom before unlocking the women's and making my way to the sink. Thee mens' voices drifted through the vents and I caught snippets of their conversation between urinal flushes.

"… Cullen's a smug bastard, Portless will never give in on this one…"

"…If he's smart, he won't budge… has Cullen right where he wants him."

I hurried to the door and pulled it open, hoping to get down the hall before they came out. Just as I walked out, the boardroom door opened. Davis Portless emerged pale as a vampire and sweating like a politician.

The men's room door opened and the three men exited at that moment. The hallway was crowded, and I moved to the left to make room. Portless barely looked up at anyone, muttered that the meeting was over and headed toward the front doors. The men blinked at each other, retrieved their briefcases and papers and left, throwing questioning glances at Edward, who was again seated in his chair at the boardroom table.

I waited until they left and walked into the boardroom, shutting the door behind me.

Edward sat, pen in hand, making notes on a legal pad before him. He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me.

"Bella, I need you to make four copies of these acquisition papers. Portless' counsel will need two copies, and we need two." He placed a sheaf of documents into a manilla folder and pushed it across the table towards me.

I hadn't moved.

Edward looked up, saw the expression on my face. His voice held a note of warning. "Don't, Bella. This does not concern you."

I was taken aback. _He knew I'd seen._

"How can you say this doesn't concern me?" My surprise at his gall chased away my anger.

He finished writing and looked up at me, eyes blank, devoid of the fire that I had expected. "Because it's none of your business." He flipped his portfolio closed and capped his pen.

The anger surged again. I strode across the room and reached out, grabbing the envelope that sat in the middle of the table. I picked it up and turned it upside down, dumping the contents onto its shiny surface.

Photographs, some color, some black and white, all in perfect focus.

A bedroom, tastefully decorated, bed and chairs visible. Davis Portless, sitting in an armchair, smile on his lips, eyes fastened on the woman before him. In one photo, the woman's back is to the camera as she straddles him. She is naked, arching her body against him, hair thrown back, lips open. In the next his face is obscured by the woman, his hands on her breasts, her arms reaching back over her head. In every photo where her eyes are open, she faces the camera as she pushes back her fall of long blonde hair.

_Rosalie._

I hadn't looked at all of them in the car; just glimpsing the first photograph had been enough. Now they were spread out on the table, swept together at odd angles, the lurid and the mundane; a hand with a wedding ring, a man's face obscured as he bites a woman's back, a window, long fingernails digging into flesh, a television with a frozen scene in the background.

I felt the bile in my throat, struggled against it, kept control.

"Why?" I croaked.

His face was blank. "It's none of your business, Bella."

I stared at him. "How can you say it's none of my business? You _knew_ what you were sending me to pick up. You knew what would happen when Portless saw these. _You_ are the one who involved _me_. It's a little late for you to tell me it's none of my business." I was babbling and barely coherent, but in my anger, I didn't care.

"Calm down, Bella. You're making a much larger issue out of this than need be."

I stared at him. The perfect face: Those eyes, those lips.

Such beauty and such darkness. He seemed almost hollow.

"Its only business. Right?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer. I watched as he shut down his laptop, gathered his files and stood. His eyes finally met mine, barely registering my presence.

"Now is not an appropriate time to discuss this."

He walked past me, turned and walked down the hall towards his office. I followed him, closing the door behind me.

"How about now?" I asked. He tossed his papers onto his desk and stood behind it, glaring at me. I ignored his withering look, and stood before him, my arms crossed in annoyance.

"You have a lot of nerve, Edward Cullen. I've talked to Alice; I know how you fought against using strippers in your bar. You keep me at arm's length because you're so worried about what other employees will think if they see us together outside of the office, you practically have a conniption over us having sex in the boardroom, yet you think nothing of blackmailing a guy into selling his business to you? And you use your brother's girlfriend to do it?" I shook my head. "I wonder what Emmett would have to say if he knew what Rosalie was doing for you."

Edward's eyes narrowed. He rounded the desk and stood facing me, inches away.

"I told you that this was none of your business. It does not concern you. And if you know what's best for you, you will leave it alone." His voice was deadly quiet, the words uttered through clenched teeth.

My voice was equally quiet, though barely controlled. "How much are you paying her, Edward? Is that how she's able to afford that little convertible? Alice wondered if Rose had been stealing money from the company, but I guess you're the one who's been giving it to her all along. Won't Alice be relieved to know that she's _earning_ it?" I laughed, one contemptuous bark.

_Let me in. Please. Talk to me. Tell me I'm crazy, that this is all a misunderstanding._

His face was stone. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You have no concept of what it's like to survive in the business world, Bella. You don't know what it takes. _I _do. _I _work my ass off, every single day, to make this business successful. And if a few people get run over in the process, then so be it. It's called collateral damage. I had hoped that you would be more understanding about this."

"Do not try to convince me that what you're doing is OK. Nothing about this is OK, Edward. Not whoring your brother's girlfriend, not blackmailing people to get what you want."

He didn't move, didn't respond.

I watched him, my eyes widening in realization. "Oh my God, Edward. This isn't about wanting to buy a business. This is about _you_. It's about your fear of failure. You _have_ to win at all costs."

He snorted derisively. "Oh really, Bella? Now you're going to analyze me? You, who up until a week or so ago was going by the name Irina and earning money by dancing half-naked in a bar? _You_ are going to counsel _me_ on what is right and just and moral? You're going to tell me what I am thinking and why I do what I do? As if you know anything about me." He shook his head in disgust.

I struggled to keep my face impassive, willing my eyes to harden, wanting desperately to disguise the pain that he had just inflicted. "Yeah, Edward. I was looking for a waitressing job and ended up dancing in my underwear for money, but _you _own the business, _asshole._"

I turned and stalked out of his office, slamming the door closed behind me. Several heads poked out of cubicles and offices, but I ignored them. I needed a break. I needed some fresh air.

I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the office. I dried the angry tears that welled up in my eyes and struggled to keep from falling into the pit of mortification that threatened to swallow me whole.

_He's right. It's none of your business. If not for his companies, and his money, you'd be sleeping on the streets of downtown New Journey in a cardboard box with "Fort Awesome" spray-painted on the side. _

My brow furrowed as I tried to erase the thought from my head. If not for Edward I wouldn't be in this emotional morass right now, knowing the depths to which he's willing to sink in order to close a deal.

My inner-bitch laughed at me. _If not for Edward, Mike would have dragged you out of that club and done God knows what to you before tossing your broken body behind a Dumpster._

With great effort I pushed the thoughts of myself to the back of my mind and focused on Edward. I remembered at the cabin that he'd opened up about his life; how his father had failed at everything, his abject fear of following in his father's footsteps, his hatred of people who refused to take action. I imagined what a sad and scared and angry boy he must have been. I shook my head; I had too much anger to feel any sympathy for Edward right now. His words had cut me to the quick, and he had tried to make me complicit in his illegal business dealings.

My thoughts were a jumble, ping-ponging back and forth between seething anger, mortification, and misery. I thought I'd been making inroads, helping him to release the ironfisted grip of control that he maintained constantly with regard to every aspect of his life. The time we'd spent at the cabin had been so different; so relaxing, so open, so honest. Completely unlike all of the other time we'd had together. Even the first night I had danced for him at the club he had been businesslike in his attempt at seduction.

I shook my head, unable to wrap my brain around it. The same man who had helped me to learn so much about myself, helped me to find inner-strength I hadn't known existed, and encouraged me to develop my self-confidence was the same man who had treated me like a second-class citizen at every turn, made life-altering decisions for me, and stalked me unabashedly.

I found myself wishing purely, desperately for a drink.

A flash of silver and the sound of screeching tires drew me up short. I turned to see the Volvo, window down, Edward reaching over to open the passenger door. I stood, drawing in another deep drag off of my cigarette, giving myself a second to decide.

He didn't say anything, and I couldn't read his eyes from behind his sunglasses. I waited, knowing he was watching me intently. I finished my cigarette and dropped it on the sidewalk, crushing it beneath my heel. With a sigh, I heaved my bag onto the floor of the Volvo and got in, slamming the door.

The sound of the tires squealing and the sudden burst of speed threw my heart into a fit of staccato beats. I took a deep breath and exhaled, determined not to speak first. A wise woman had told me once that the first one to speak loses her position of control, and I wasn't about to have that happen.

Not again. Not now.

The car flew along the roadway, telephone poles and sidewalks and buildings and trees blurring together into brown and green and gray and red, like a Christmas tree decorated by a colorblind psychopath. I snorted at the vision of Phil Spector in teased wig hanging tinsel and coughed to cover the sound.

_Say nothing._

I waited, clearing my mind. After several minutes I wondered vaguely where we were going, and the car began to slow. I recognized the parkway where he had picked me up the first time and taken me to lunch at the country club.

He parked in the small gravel parking area, shut off the car and got out. I assumed he expected me to do the same.

I opened my door and got out, grabbing my cigarettes and slamming the door.

He looked at me briefly. "Are you OK to walk in those shoes?"

I nodded, not wanting to break my vow of silence.

He started towards the path and I followed.

He pushed his hands through his hair before thrusting them into his pockets. I lit a cigarette, and with a calmness that surprised me, I offered it to him. He looked at the smoking tip for a moment and took it from me without a word. I watched as he took a drag, coughed slightly before handing it back.

We could have been any couple, watching birds and bicyclists, discussing the stock market, chatting about a two-week holiday away. But we were not a couple; just two people with a single tenuous, dangerous thread binding us to each other.

I forced my mind away from him, away from the smooth lines of his shirt and slacks, the narrow tie that looked classic on his lean frame. Instead I tried to remember the Latin name for each of the plants and trees we passed.

He cleared his throat. "I am sorry you saw what you did."

_Pseudotsuga menziesii – Douglas fir._

I blinked but didn't respond. _You're sorry I saw the photos? Not sorry that you used them to blackmail a client?_ I shook my head in disgust.

"Not good enough, Edward." My voice sounded throaty from disuse.

_Acer macrophyllum – Big Leaf Maple._

He tried again. "Its only business, Bella. I thought you would be able to handle it."

I laughed hollowly, my feeble grip on self-control threatened by a swell of anger. "Don't even say that, Edward. This is about so much more than business."

_Eschscholzia californica – California Poppy_

He nodded once before turning turned to look at me. I realized suddenly that he'd brought me here, to the park, in hopes that I would discuss this with him calmly without causing a scene. And, if I did happen to erupt, there wouldn't be anyone around to hear it.

_Always thinking._

"Edward." I decided to be calm, controlled. "What you are doing is illegal, not to mention morally and ethically corrupt. You are blackmailing Davis Portless into selling his business to you, and you are using Rosalie to do it. It doesn't matter if you're paying her; you are no better than a pimp."

A bolt of realization hit me, and I stopped, turning to look at him. "When you bought the bar, all of that arguing over the strippers… it was just posturing, wasn't it? You didn't care that there were strippers, you just wanted it to look like you were morally above reproach so that you wouldn't be suspected of this kind of behavior." I was shocked by this, more than I should have been.

His face remained immobile, but his eyes darkened slightly.

"Rosalie made a choice, Bella." There was a hint of a sardonic smile on his lips. "She is the one who suggested it, actually. 'Guaranteed business growth,' she called it. Her only stipulation was that we not use an outside source for the photography."

My blood sluiced through my veins. "It was you. You took the photographs."

He shrugged. "It's the only way it could be done with absolute security."

I closed my eyes as a wave of nausea threatened to claim me. I thought of all the photographs that hung in Alice's office, in the dressing area of the club, in his apartment, on the walls of his office. He had taken all of them.

"The bedroom… it was one of the lofts in your building. Jasper set up the security systems, and you watched him. You knew how to do it, how to hide the cameras. You convinced Portless that he was safe, that it was your building and no one would know about his little trysts. You took the photos. Then you sent me to pick them up from the developer. You knew I would see them. You knew I couldn't…"

_You knew I couldn't say anything because of the position of control you have over me._

He didn't say anything. The silence spoke his assent.

How had I let myself get here? Drawn into this morass?

_He knows better than to contradict me. He needs me on his side. I'm a liability now._

My face was frozen. I blinked once. Softly I asked, "Why didn't you just hit me with the car? Say it was an accident?" I answered my own question.

_Too many witnesses._

I broke into a run. I toddled slightly in an effort to get my heels off, ran flat-out in my stocking feet, towards the road, away from him. I'd seen the flash of threat, the hunger in his eyes.

This time, the hunger was not for me.

It was for my silence.

I heard him behind me, on the path, now at the edge of the trees.

I cursed myself, angry that I was close enough to him that I knew where his mind was, what he was thinking, planning.

I reached the car, but I didn't have the keys, couldn't get inside; had nothing to hide me. I looked through the window and just made out the outline of my backpack, sitting on the floor of the front seat where I had left it. _Fuck._

I felt sick. I had touched him, felt him, allowed him inside of my mind and my body, tasted him, given to and taken from him. I would always owe him, no matter the success or failure of my life.

"Bella." He materialized at the front of the car and I yelped.

He walked toward me, slowly, as if trying to keep from spooking a feral cat. He held out his hand.

"You dropped these." My shoes.

I blinked.

"Bella, do you honestly think that I am going to hurt you over this?" His eyes were hard, but there was a ring of truth in his words.

He took another step closer.

"I am upset that you would overreact in this manner, and I fear that you could pose a threat in your precarious condition." There was a hint of smile at the corner of his lips.

I gaped. "Do you think this is _funny_, Edward? I don't find this amusing at all. If anyone is posing a threat, it's _you._"

I stared him down. _I am not afraid of you._

He shook his head. "Bella, please. You're not going to say anything to anyone about this. I think you are well aware that to do so would not be in your best interests." He was careful to not look me in the eye as he said this.

I pulled my pack of cigarettes out of my hands and lit one, trying hard to ignore the shaking of my hands. I dragged deeply, filling myself with the smoke, willing it to reach every pore, hoping for calm.

I crossed my arms.

"I need you to take me home." It wasn't a question.

He nodded.

He opened the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman, waited for me to get settled before shutting the door. He got in and started the car, and started off towards the loft.

"No. My apartment."

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything, just nodded again.

I sighed. He knew what I was asking, what I was saying. I would go home, to my apartment, get my truck, follow him to his apartment, and get my things. I was moving home, back into whatever danger I was facing. I didn't want to be under Edward's surveillance any longer. I didn't know what I was going to do, but it certainly wouldn't include the pain of a beautiful man inflicting his will upon me at every turn. I thought of Mike, who had at least been blatant in his methods of control, using threats and force to get his way with me; Edward had gotten close to me and then exploited my weakness. I realized with sadness that I had done the same to him; he controlled everything in his life and my little seductive maneuvers had enabled me to control him, at least, to a minor extent. Not that any of it mattered now.

I leaned back against the headrest, watching the trees as we drove, trying once again to pick out the scientific names as they passed. They began to pass in a blur, one species melting into another, the old and the young, the live and the dead. I saw trees split by the weight of other trees that had fallen, severing them. I saw the new saplings and the rotted stumps, some with seedlings growing up out of the loam around them, new life taking nourishment from the death around it.

I wondered idly which I was now facing: The new life or the rot.

**THE END -- PART I  
**

**A/N: This chapter took me three weeks to write. I was not expecting this to be the path that this story traveled; I had always thought from the beginning that this would be a HEA.**

**I promise that more will be revealed next week, in the Epilogue. I also have some outtakes (Edward and Bella grocery shopping, a hot lemon that didn't make it in before the shit hit the fan) that I'll be posting as time permits.**

**And now, the thank-yous:**

**First and foremost, to my BFF and Beta, AzureEyedI, thank you for being so straightforward. These past months have been a creative struggle, sometimes taking a week to get 10 words banged out. Yet you were there, helping me along, shaking your pompoms (heh), sending back chapters at all hours of the day & night. You've taught me the power of the txt msg to induce laughter at inappropriate times and are the only person I can txt during Mass without feeling guilty.**

**To all the UU girls on Ravelry, thanks for posting in the "Stripped" thread, posting in the Updates thread superfast, and caring about these characters. Packerbelle (there are no words for your level of awesomeness. NONE.) Maylin (OMG your fanfic knowledge. And your yarns. YOUR YARNS!) betheany (a better review I do not know, and you are one descriptive bitch.) Megi, KnittingFynatyc, Mal (fingerporn!), lambcullen, Polly, Ashpags, Shalu, lakesidegirl (OH…IO!), knit1purr2, amander, feisty, sareeswfla, hrvdmnky, criosa, ceci, TabithaAbraham, cullengirl30, Sr5Rfan … I know there are some that I've missed and I will self-flagellate daily for penance.**

**And you knitting poseurs: KiyaRaven, fats, MrsTheKing… thanks for popping your cherries in the UU group. You've brought something special to UU and we love you so much we'd let you sparklejizz on our faces. (And you don't even have to warn us.)**


	24. Epilogue Part I

**A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make the characters do sick, twisted things.**

**Hello, dear readers. I've gotten more reviews on this last chapter than I had imagined. The general consensus seems to be that the ending came out of left field. Some hated it, some liked it, but most think it was just too _sudden_. A lot have asked if I'm thinking about writing a sequel, and I admit, I have toyed with the idea of writing this story from Edward's POV. It might be interesting to see his take, perhaps shed some light on how things turned out for him.**

**As I indicated in my author's note for Chapter 23, I had always intended to have this be an HEA. But as the story progressed, Edward's actions became increasingly unacceptable; he stalked Bella, took over her life on the pretense of protecting her, made decisions about their relationship without even considering her thoughts or feelings. He was consumed by his desire for success, had a 'win at all costs' mentality towards life, and pursued Bella because he didn't like losing. It was all about the conquest for him.**

**Bella, on the other hand, grew stronger and matured throughout the story. She was willing to try new things, step out of her comfort zone. In order for her to stay with Edward, he would have needed to make some major changes. Do you really see that happening? I certainly didn't. He barely opened up emotionally to her, and the only connection they really had was physical. That's no foundation for a good relationship. In addition, Bella has developed a better grasp of right and wrong, and Edward's dedication to his business will always – _always_ – be first.**

**For Bella to stay with Edward would have meant that she needed to throw away everything that she'd learned about herself, undo all of the progress she'd made since leaving her abusive boyfriend and striking out on her own. **

**That's now how I want Bella to behave.**

**HOWEVER… I can't get these two out of my head. There's more story itching to get out, and maybe it's the 3 extremely strong Red Eye IPA beers that I've had tonight… but I've decided this is the end of Part I. Part II will be along soon… when I can complete some legal research and get a feel for what's going on in Edward's side of things. **

**So don't fret, it isn't over. I promise.**

**Epilogue – Part I**

**Six Months Later**

I have never considered myself a morning person.

It's never been easy for me to drag myself out of bed; not in high school, not in college, and certainly not when I was working nights at the bar. But I've found that it's been easy to get into the pattern, waking just as the sky begins to lighten, before the lights and radios come on in the houses around me.

Harder than changing my schedule has been quitting cigarettes. The smell of coffee perking is a trigger for me; at first, the craving for nicotine was so strong it made me shake. But the club I work at now doesn't allow any of its employees to smoke, and quitting proved to be a formidable task. I haven't had a cigarette in almost six months, and I'm quite proud of myself.

I shut off my alarm clock just before it rang, stretched, and rolled out of bed to start the coffee. I moved into the living room, unrolling my yoga mat and working through several poses while the coffee brewed. Simple poses, focusing on my breathing and my technique seem to help me through the craving.

After all, habits are just behaviors. When you need to break a negative habit, something positive has to be there to replace it, to become a good habit. Otherwise you are more likely to sink back into unhealthy behaviors.

I finished, took a deep breath, rolled up my mat and stored it underneath the loveseat. I moved into the kitchen, poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, reading the mail that I hadn't looked through yesterday.

There was a letter.

My heart thudded as I saw the postmark; New Journey, CA.

_Could it be him? _

The penmanship on the address looked familiar, but I couldn't place it as his. Heart thudding, I tore it open.

Dear Bella:

Hope this finds you well. I'm so glad that you told me where you've landed, I was so worried when Edward told me that you'd left. I was really hurt that you didn't say goodbye, but then I figured you needed your space and you'd call or write when you were ready. I have plans to come down to L.A. next month; I'd love to stop in for a visit.

I don't know if the news has traveled that far south, but Edward was arrested a few months ago for bribing a Councilman to get one of our buildings rezoned (I included several newspaper clippings. As you can imagine, it's all over the news up here). Normally (Edward being Edward), I'd say he has nothing to worry about, but it looks like the State's evidence against him is fairly strong. I would be surprised if he's able to get out of this without jail time. Emmett, Jasper and I are trying to keep the company together, working on a few projects that are already under contract, but the upcoming trial is making it difficult since they're scrutinizing everything we do. Besides, Edward was in charge of new business initiatives, so I'm not sure who is going to be going after prospects.

Along with Edward, Rosalie was arrested – can you believe it? It seems that she was involved with Edward's little scheme, but considering the photos we saw, she was definitely intimately involved. Emmett is furious, won't speak to her, refused to bail her out of jail, and Esme is just beside herself. At least now I know how she paid for that convertible. It seems that blackmail can be quite lucrative.

The club is still running with me and James working together as usual. Eric left, and Betheney's sister is the new DJ. Tanya is still running the bar, Laurent is still kicking ass, and the rest of the girls are still there. Nothing much has changed.

Jasper and I are talking marriage. (I know, I can't believe it either!) I think we'll wait for Edward's trial to be over before making any definite plans (we don't know if we're going to be called as witnesses or not; neither one of us had any idea what was going on, so we're safe as far as that goes).

Your letter said that you were working at a new club; what is the name of your manager? I'll be happy to put in a good word for you if I know her.

Have you been doing any knitting? There are several great yarn stores in and around L.A. I'll e-mail you a list of my faves.

And now that I've exhausted all of the small-town banter, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that things turned out the way that they did with Edward. My brother has always been consumed by his business, and I had really hoped that you would be the one person that would help him to see the light, maybe even be a catalyst for change. I know that he hurt you, and I am so sorry that it happened. I have really missed you, and I want to make sure that we keep in touch.

Call me or email me anytime. Or sign up on Ravelry, already! My user name there is acullen.

Love,

Alice

I read the letter three times before picking up the newspaper clippings. They were from the New Journey _Ledger_ and were dated last week. There were pictures of Edward being taken out of the office in handcuffs, a grim look on his face. There were older photos of him, standing in front of construction sites, sleeves rolled up, arms crossed, tie straight, serious face of a hardworking businessman changing the face of a small town. I laughed a little as I thought of him standing before a judge, wearing an orange jumpsuit tailored by the county correctional facility. I sobered when I thought of how easily it could have been _me_ taken out of the office in cuffs, standing before a judge, claiming I wasn't guilty.

I shivered and reached for my knitting bag; what if they found out that I knew what was happening? What if they called me as a witness and I had to testify against Edward?

I shook my head, trying to calm myself. I had never filled out any employment papers, either at the club or for Edward's company. I had user and email accounts on the network, but I could have been any temporary. I'd never handled any of the acquisition paperwork or been involved to any extent with clients; the only thing I'd ever done was pick up the photographs.

The only way they would know about me was if Edward told them.

I pushed that thought out of my mind and checked the time; I had an hour until I needed to be at work. I had time to finish up the toe decreases on the dark green Thuja socks I'd been working on for the past few weeks.

* * * * *

The club was a ten minute drive from my apartment, on Ventura in Sherman Oaks. As I waited through an interminable light, thought yet again about buying a bicycle. Every morning I considered it, but by the time I got to work I convinced myself that everything I needed for my job wouldn't fit into my backpack.

I parked and walked inside through the wide double doors, smiling at the girls standing near the entrance. I changed and stashed my bag in my locker near the dressing area before walking into one of the private rooms farther inside of the club. I connected my iPod to the sound system and picked out my stripper playlist, then moved to the pole on the platform directly in front of the mirrors to begin.

I grasped the pole in both of my hands, sliding down to give my legs a good stretch. I pulled back up slightly, back flat, ass thrust out, knees locked. I stepped around the pole and moved my hands behind my back, holding on carefully as I slid down, spreading my knees. I pushed up to standing, grasped the pole again, and moved into a turn, allowing the momentum to carry me around in a dizzying spin before sliding into a split on the floor. I closed my eyes, and I saw him yet again, seated before me, his eyes on my body…

The song ended and I stood, smiling and nodding at the claps and whistles.

I stepped down off the platform towards the people before me and gave them a bright smile.

"Welcome to Pole Position. This is a women-only aerobic strip exercise class that will teach you how to combine pole dancing and aerobic exercise to tone your body and increase your self-confidence. When you registered, you should have received a list of items that you'll need for class. You should have comfortable clothes, high-heeled shoes and kneepads. Does everyone have their gear?"

I checked to make sure all of the women were prepared, and then launched into teaching the class.

* * * * *

Fifty-five minutes later, class was over. I slipped off my shoes and sat on the edge of the platform, chugging water, watching as the women left the room – a suburban housewife with three kids and one year of sobriety under her belt; a middle-aged insurance saleswoman whose husband left her when she gained 85 pounds after their son committed suicide; a forty-something programmer with a crush on a twenty-something guy she works with.

The new faces mixed with the old; either they'd quit after the third class or I'd get to know them over the course of the next six-weeks. Each woman had a different story, why they were coming to a class that helped them feel sexier while getting into shape. I hoped this class was helping them as much as it had helped me.

I checked my watch idly; I had an hour until the next class was to start, and toyed with the idea of running across the street to grab a bagel and more coffee, maybe knit for twenty minutes. I thought of the dark green socks that I was working on and shook my head.

* * * * *

I'd left New Journey two days after Edward had taken me back to my apartment. I had packed all of my stuff into the truck and waited until the next day when I was sure he was at work before going to the loft to get the rest of my things.

I walked through the entire loft, remembering the first time he'd brought me here, how we'd chatted over wine, how he'd played the piano for me. I climbed the stairs to his bedroom, where we had shared our bodies and shed our inhibitions. I gathered my toiletry bag and my work clothes and pajamas.

The bed didn't look as if he'd slept in it.

I checked the drawers to see if I'd left anything behind, and was surprised to see his socks, rolled neatly into wooden drawer dividers; all were dark gray, brown or black. One or two had simple cables down the side, but most were plain, basic socks. Alice had knit these for him. I'd never noticed his socks before. How sad that something that took so much time and effort and love went virtually unnoticed.

I put the key on the desk in his office, knowing that he'd find it in here long before he found it in the kitchen or on the nightstand.

On my way out of town, I stopped at Madelyn's store to tell her I was leaving town, buy a pair of nickel-plated double-pointed needles and some cobalt blue sock yarn. I hugged her, said thanks, and promised to return as soon as I could.

I could have driven straight through to L.A., but I wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere. I stopped along the way, checking out small towns and wondering where I should settle, what I could do. I updated my resume, listed The Cullen Group as a previous employer and cited Alice as a reference, and got a job at a temp agency. I found an apartment with reasonable rent on a quiet street and moved in right away. A few weeks later I found the ad for a stripercise instructor, went for two interviews and got the job. The temp job pays the rent and the instructor gig lets me put some money aside, always important when your truck is as ancient as mine.

I taught myself to knit socks.

The first pair I knit, I sent to Edward. There was a note, which said:

I thought you could use a little color in your life.

--Bella

I hadn't heard back from him, but since I hadn't included an address or my new cell number, I didn't really expect to. I wondered if he'd ever worn them, or if they sat in the back of his sock drawer, rolled up in their own little divider.

The green Thujas I was working on now… I don't know who was going to get them. I could always send them to Charlie, but he's the 'why knit them if you can buy them at Wal-Mart for five bucks' kind of person.

* * * * *

I shook myself back to the present, stared at the now-empty water bottle in my hands. I checked my watch again and groaned; now I didn't have time for that bagel. Damn.

I stretched and got up, needing to refill my bottle before the next class started.

I opened the studio door and was walking towards the cooler when something hit me in the back of the head. Hard.

I squinted with the pain.

"Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry! Are you OK? " The concern in the voice was almost palpable.

I turned, still holding my head, and found that I was staring directly into the nipples of a tall man.

His body was flawless.

His pecs were immaculate; I could tell by the lines under his tight workout shirt. My eyes moved up over his chiseled chest, topped with broad shoulders. His arms were magnificent, his definition perfect and natural, not steroid-induced.

I blinked.

"Are you OK? He repeated, obviously concerned that my head injury was the cause of my muteness.

"Oh. Um, yeah. Yes. I'm fine," I stammered.

He held up a large leather duffel bag. "I need to learn to watch where I'm going. Good thing I didn't have any weights in here or anything." His grin was sheepish, alluring.

I found myself smiling back. "It's OK. No problem. One more head injury isn't going to do me in."

He laughed, and I found that I liked the sound. I wondered briefly if I could make him do it again.

I held out my hand to shake his, but realized too late that my right hand was still grasping my water bottle. Face flushing, I switched hands, smoothed back my hair, and extended my hand again.

"I'm Bella. Bella Swan."

_That sounded confident. _I was proud of myself.

He looked down at my outstretched hand and smiled. I felt my stomach flutter a little at the sight of it.

He reached out and took my small hand in his large, firm, warm grip.

"Jacob. Jacob Black."

* * * * *

**A/N: So, Bella has met a handsome young man named Jacob…**

**Is it possible that Edward and Bella get back together? Sure – anything is possible. Maybe Edward's little brush with the law will teach him that some things are more important. And I can't think of anyone better than Bella to teach him that. Besides… when a girl knits socks for you, that is a sure sign that fences can be mended.**

**I plan on posting a couple of outtakes and a lemon that didn't make the final cut, so if you put this story on alert, you'll get the update. And, since I've decided to bite the bullet and write Part II, you'll find out here first.**

** And again, thank you for reading and reviewing. Even if you hated the ending of Part I. ;)**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: HI HI HI! Oh, my lovely readers, how much I have missed you! I've completed the majority of my research and have embarked on Part II of this little story here. I will try to update weekly, but may not be able to get on a regular schedule until after the first of the year. I wanted to let you know I have not forgotten about you, my dears, nor have I forgotten about Bella and Edward (that rat bastard). I know that I introduced Jacob Black at the end of the Part I Epilogue, but I guarantee you that this is an Edward x Bella story, so rest assured, my pets.**

**To my Mr. O'Connor, thanks for the details on minimum-security prisons. You know what your badge & handcuffs do to me. Maybe I'll need you for some sexier 'research' in the near future...**

**AzureEye, I love you. Thanks for keeping me alive and squeeing at appropriate points in the story. Mad props for your uberbeta skillz.**

**SM owns Twilight. I own Fuckward and Stripperbella.**

**Part II**

**Six Months Later**

**EDWARD**

**Chapter 24**

The shoes felt odd.

I flexed my feet, wondering at the new feeling of confinement, like a child forced to wear stiff leather church shoes when he normally goes barefoot. I understood that this was because they were brand new, unworn, sent to me several days ago by Alice in preparation for this day.

But there was more to it.

For the first time in four months I was wearing real clothes; dress slacks and a button down shirt. Not the gray sweatpants, tee-shirt-and-tennis-shoe uniform that's the requirement of all inmates at Taft Camp.

I smiled at the irony. For years I've chosen black and white and gray as my wardrobe staples. Or, rather, I've instructed Alice to populate my closet with these colors.

And I couldn't hate these colors any more than I do now.

For this first time in four months, none of my movements were tracked using the numeric designation 051386-075. I was in a holding cell, paperwork completed, waiting for a corrections officer to call my name. Waiting to be picked up by my sister.

Waiting to leave.

"Cullen."

I stood, waited with my hands in my pockets as the CO buzzed open the large Plexiglas door, waved me through. I touched the letter in my right pocket and walked down the corridor and through a solid door at the end of the hall.

That was it. No fanfare, no great show of shaking hands, no good luck wishes or pats on the back. I didn't expect it; after all, what congratulations should one expect for committing crimes and serving time?

I breathed deeply.

It felt good.

The sun and wind on my face felt different. There's an inherent difference between breathing air as an inmate and breathing the air of a free man.

Well, as free as my parole will allow me to be.

I flexed my feet, felt some measure of comfort in the flash of cobalt blue that encased my skin, and again touched the folded letter in my pocket; the only two things I was taking with me from this place.

* * *

"Do you have all the paperwork for your parole officer?" Alice had dispensed with the niceties; a quick hug and question about the clothes were all that she had said before getting down to business.

"There shouldn't be a problem with me leaving the county as long as I check in regularly. No crossing state lines, you know."

I heard the smile in Alice's voice. "I guess we won't be having any crazy weekends in Tijuana, then."

I stared out the window at the world flying by on the I-5. It was disconcerting to be traveling in a car at a high rate of speed when I was used to traveling at human pace.

"So, Alice, where have you been staying?"

"I've been renting an apartment in LA. It's small, but sufficient. I figured you could stay with me until we figure out what to do with the business."

"What about Jasper?"

Alice's mouth became a thin line. She didn't speak for a moment. "I really don't know, Edward. This whole situation has been quite a strain on our relationship."

I didn't say anything. What is there to say? The decisions that I've made over the past few years have destroyed so many people, in so many far-reaching ways. How can I apologize enough, rectify every despicable thing I've done?

"I'm sorry, Alice." She nodded.

"I have the paperwork for the cabin. Whenever you're ready to sign."

I sighed. One of the consequences I hadn't anticipated, losing my cabin.

I tried not to think too much about the cabin, why I was selling it.

There were a number of reasons; first, to pay the legal expenses I'd incurred through the course of the trial. Second, since the cabin was in Oregon, I couldn't legally go there without violating the conditions of my parole, which extended for the next five years.

If only I had known this the last time I had gone there…

"Everything was packed up and trucked down to New Journey; it's all in a storage unit." Alice was saying.

"Thank you."

She sneaked a look at me. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, why?"

She shook her head. "You normally don't say 'thank you.' I'm a little surprised is all."

I watched the trees and signs whizzing by at terrific speeds, closed my eyes to the blur. "I guess I've learned not to take things for granted anymore."

* * *

The apartment was serviceable; two small bedrooms, living room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom. The dining room was covered with two laptops and a variety of computer equipment.

"I know it's small, but it offered the best location and size for our budget."

I smiled. "Don't worry. It's a larger space than what I've been accustomed to for the past four months."

She nodded. "I bought you a new laptop, had everything we could salvage copied from your old hard drive to the new one; most of our contact lists, business contracts and financial records are still intact." Alice made a face. "It took forever to get our computers back from the FBI."

I nodded. _Just one more thing for me to feel guilty about._

"Thanks for taking care of that for me. What about the New Journey office? All the equipment?"

Alice reached into an accordion file at the end of the dining room table and handed me a sheaf of papers. "Here is the lease agreement, the employee termination information, property auction information, liquidation details; everything."

I stared down at the ream of papers in my hand; the sum total of years of work, blood sweat and tears of my sister and close friends, all sacrificed in the name of solvency.

I sighed. There was no sense delaying the inevitable. "Where do we sit financially?"

"We've had to liquidate everything. After breaking leases, dumping assets and selling a large percentage of our portfolio, we're solvent, if barely. We have a small cushion to start rebuilding, but it's going to be lean for a while until we can get a handle on new clients. And we have to be careful to stay within the bounds of your parole." Alice gave me a meaningful look, and I nodded.

She sighed. "Things could have been so much worse, you know." She put her chin in her hands.

I put the stack of papers on the table and walked to her, taking her in my arms, hugging her tightly. "If only I had done things differently, Alice… so many things."

I felt Alice nod beneath my chin. "Well, let's get started."

* * *

We spent several hours working through papers, making notes for the attorneys, deciding on a plan of action. Alice had prepared a list of prospective investment properties and a number of contacts interested in doing business with the Los Angeles branch of The Cullen Group.

"How have you been getting along financially?" I asked. "Are you still personal shopping?"

"A little, on the side. Mostly I'm doing fittings for local shows and some club dancers. I even have a regular gig doing the costumes for a few off-strip clubs in Vegas. It pays the rent." She shrugged.

She checked her watch and stretched. "It's nearly five. You want to go grab something to eat?"

* * *

We walked to a sandwich shop that was around the corner from Alice's apartment. The space was good, but the layout inefficient. I found myself making mental notes of the staff's efficiency, watching the patrons, gauging the financial demographic, assessing the validity of the menu pricing.

"You just can't stop yourself, can you?" smiled Alice as I complained that there were only six power outlets in the entire establishment, yet there were large signs advertising Wi-Fi to draw laptop users.

I smiled. "I guess not. The business is in my blood."

She nodded, and her eyes took on a toughness. "That's what will bring us back from the brink."

I met her eyes despite the strength of her gaze. "I promise you that I will do everything in my power to bring us back from the precipice, and make us more successful than before."

"I believe in you, Edward."

_If only I could believe in myself._

"Have you been in touch with anyone from New Journey?"

She shook her head. "Not really. James was angry when we sold the business; he thought we should have given him a deal, but he couldn't afford our asking price. He didn't see eye-to-eye with the new owners, and he quit. I've heard he moved to Wyoming to work at some big game hunting camp. Something about being a 'tracker', whatever that is." She shrugged and sipped her coffee.

"Emmett?"

"He's been busy finalizing the last of our outstanding projects, doing follow-up, finishing the punch lists. He's had a few job offers for GC work, but he says he's tired of 'sub-wrangling.' As soon as he can save up some money, he plans to enroll at USC's School of Architecture here in L.A."

I nodded. Emmett was excellent with structure ideas, but his strength was in implementation. I made a mental note to get him as much work as possible.

_And now for the hard questions._

"Rose?"

Alice shook her head. "No idea."

"What about Jasper?"

Alice didn't look up from her plate. "I'm not really sure. I haven't talked to him lately; last I heard he had been doing some technical work for Solomon and Davis. Just to finance his trip overseas.

"Where's he going?"

"He's working for Heifer International." She smoothed her napkin. "He's going to Frankfurt, Germany for several months to do systems analysis for them."

"I hadn't realized that he was interested in going to Germany."

Alice turned her napkin and smoothed it in the other direction. "Me neither. He sprung it on me just last week. We had an argument and… well…"

She crumpled the napkin between her fingers and I saw that she was fighting tears.

I reached across the table and held her hand, wishing, on top of everything else, that I could fix this one thing for her.

* * *

I couldn't sleep.

I wasn't surprised. I had slept fitfully in prison; night after night of strange sounds at inopportune moments, lights coming on at all hours, tends to interrupt normal sleep patterns. I didn't expect that my sleep would improve immediately. After dinner, Alice and I had returned to the apartment and worked for several more hours, finally shutting down our laptops around midnight.

After tossing and turning, counting backwards from one hundred and trying several meditation exercises, I gave up and turned on the reading lamp. I slid open the nightstand drawer and withdrew the letter, opening it for the hundredth time in the past four months. I ran my fingers over the ink, taking comfort in knowing my fingers were touching the same places on this page as hers had.

Edward,

Thank you for sharing with me. I wish that it could have been more , that we could have worked. But deep down inside, no matter how good a match I think we might be, I would always be second to your business. It will always be your number one priority, and nothing will change that. You're willing to do things to ensure your success that I can't abide. I don't want any part of that. I am not delivering an ultimatum, forcing you to choose the business or me. I already know that the business would win. I am telling you straight that I can never be second best. I want to be the priority. I settled once for someone who didn't care about my needs, and I refuse to do it again.

I wish you luck.

All my love,

Bella

The light was weak, but it didn't matter; I'd long ago memorized her words. I'd received this letter a week before I was scheduled to self-surrender at Taft Camp for my six-month sentence.

For the thousandth time, I wondered about her. Where was she? What was she doing? I knew that she was still in contact with Alice, but I hadn't felt it appropriate to ask after her. I wondered if she knew that I was out of prison, if she had wondered about me at all.

I lay back and closed my eyes, filling my mind with the fantasy of What Ifs. Rewinding history in my brain; changing the direction of my paths, making better choices, all ending with her sleeping next to me in our bed, comfortable, in love.

The fantasy of 'What Ifs' usually calmed my desperate mind, but not tonight. I knew it was early, but I dressed and made my way to the dining room and was on my second pot of coffee by the time the sun rose. It was my first full day of freedom, and I didn't want to waste it.

Alice stumbled into the dining room around eight, yawning. I laughed at her fluffy bathrobe and chaotic hair, and she gave me a withering look.

"I hope I didn't wake you. I was trying to be quiet." I apologized.

She shook her head, eyes returned to their half-closed position. "Not you. The coffee. Infiltrated my dreams." She yawned again and I smiled.

"Sit down, I'll get you a cup. Just watch the equipment."

Two minutes later, I slid a cup of Colombian in front of her, along with a bowl of fruit.

"Thanks, Edward."

I nodded. "Take your time, let me know when you're ready to get to work."

She picked at the fruit and drank half the cup before opening the conversation.

"What've you got so far?"

"I went over the list of prospective investment properties in the area and cross-referenced them against a list of prospective investors. Your records were meticulous, and we have a good idea of who will be willing to work with us in the area." I slid a legal pad across the table towards her.

"With your contact list and experience with the L.A. social scene, we shouldn't have too much difficulty making a few more inroads. We'll need to make certain we're on the list for any and all new club openings, gallery openings, wine tastings, movie premieres; you name it, we need to make ourselves a presence. If we can afford it, we need to look into hiring someone – a temp, even – to make phone calls for us, get us onto all the right lists."

Alice nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

She slid the bowl of fruit toward me. "Do you know which project you want to start on first?"

I picked out a piece of pineapple and glanced at a spreadsheet on the screen. "Do you have an opinion?"

She shrugged. "The health club seems like our most viable. Their books are looking a little messy, they had a recent change in ownership and a new, relatively inexperienced manager, and… we have a contact there, one of the employees. Which may or may not be a good thing."

I frowned. "Who is the contact?"

Alice took a deep breath and met my eyes carefully.

"Bella Swan."

**A/N:Taft Camp is a real-life minimum security prison in Southern California, just south of L.A.  
**

**So, is he Remorsefulward, or still Jerkward? Only time will tell... please to be reviewing, if you don't mind.**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Hi, kids. This one is a little short -- just over 2100 words -- but it needed to be it's own chapter. You'll see why when you read Chapter 26, which I hope to post next week.**

**Congrats to my super-awesome beta, AzureEyedI, on her FIRST PLACE WIN in the "That Thing Called Love" contest for her o/s, "Mr. Jingeling." **

**Fantastic story, do yourself a favor and read it: www [dot] fanfiction[dot] net/s/5605609/1/Mr_Jingeling**

**And, to you awesome reviewers, especially chach2990, who gave me a fantastic idea for a plotline... and you'll get to see it in either Chapter 26 or 27.**

**Chapter 25**

"Bella? Is the contact for this health club venture?" I took a breath to compose myself. "I don't think it's wise for me to pursue this one. If you think you're ready, you're welcome to go after it." I looked back at the laptop screen, but the numbers before my eyes no longer had a logical sequence.

I searched Alice's face for a reaction, but her expression was smooth and passive.

I stared out the window, thought of how I'd gone out of my way yesterday to avoid asking Alice about Bella. I wanted nothing more than to know she was safe, and happy, but couldn't bear it if she was angry, or worse, if she'd moved on. It's altogether easier to maintain a fantasy when you aren't faced with the facts of the matter.

"Where is she?" My voice was soft, the pain palpable.

"She works as a Strippercise instructor at Core Fitness, the club we're looking at. She's been there about a year, and her class was so well-received, they hired two more girls to teach. She got her CPFDI and teaches Instructor classes as well. She works for a temp agency for extra cash."

"CPFDI?"

"Certified Pole Fitness Dance Instructor."

I smiled. "Ah. There are certifications for that?"

Alice's glare was withering. "Yes, Edward, there are. Believe it or not, working as a dancer requires strength and stamina beyond imagination. It's hard work if you do it right."

I shrugged. "Alice, you're talking to a man who logged 1200 miles running over the past four months. Ten miles a day is a little different than flinging your hair around to Nine Inch Nails."

Alice shook her head. "Oh, Edward. You are so clueless sometimes."

My face was a mask of innocence. "You'll have to excuse me for not seeing pole dancing as a competitive sport."

Alice smirked. "You obviously never spent any time in the dancer's dressing room."

The memory surfaced, unbidden. The blue bustier, the black lace panties, the high heels… her hair, swirling around her face, her lips, full and parted, her dark brown eyes, the scent of her…

_Of Bella._

I blinked. "Sorry, Alice, what was that?"

Alice shook her head at me. "I said that Bella's classes are consistently lucrative. On top of the regular Strippercise classes, she's certified to teach instructors, and she pulls in eight hundred dollars for a two-day session."

I let out a low whistle. "That's impressive."

Alice smirked. "There are three instructors teaching the regular Strippercise classes, which are six weeks in length and have a minimum of six, maximum of twelve students. Those classes are three hundred and all are booked for the next twelve weeks. Plus, Bella does two Instructor classes a month, eight students, and they're booked for the next four months. It's amazing."

I did the math. That was eleven thousand dollars just for the regular classes, and another twenty-five grand in instructor class fees. All that in just one quarter; the projections for the year were fantastic.

"Bella certainly seems to be doing well for herself."

Alice shook her head. "No, she's doing well for the _club_. _She's_ making about fifteen bucks an hour. Six months ago the club changed hands, bought by a corporation named..." She reached across the table and pulled a sheaf of papers from one of the accordion files. "Ah! Here it is. Black Enterprises." She pushed the top paper towards me and continued reading from another page.

"William Black, entrepreneur. Goes by the name Billy. When he was in his thirties he worked at a factory, had an accident with a forklift. Paralyzed from the waist down, he filed a lawsuit against the forklift company and got a hefty settlement. Then he sued his employer for using unsafe equipment and got another settlement. He's spent the last ten years investing his wealth in real estate."

"Why this health club?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "His son Jacob has worked there since he was in high school. Fancies himself a personal trainer, but doesn't have any certifications. He works behind the front desk and washes towels when he isn't in the weight room. He pushed his dad to buy the place and let him run it. So now he's managing the place, and running it into the ground, from what I can see. They've not done a sales or marketing push, and memberships are down, despite a general increase in fitness memberships in the area." She shook her head. "Bella's classes are the only thing keeping the business afloat."

I pushed the papers back towards Alice. "Well, you've certainly done your research. How do you know so much about this kid?"

She tilted her head, opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. "It's my job to know everything, Edward."

I smiled. It certainly was.

"How are the family's finances?"

Alice blew out a breath. "Income from various investment properties, a few vanity investments and charitable interests. After his windfall, Billy bought his twin daughters Rachel and Rebecca large houses; Rachel lives in Beverly Hills, Rebecca in Hawaii. Billy has a car service, which he takes off on his taxes, and Jake drives a Hummer. He owns a home in Beverly Hills and maintains an office in Pasadena."

"What about Jacob Black?"

"High school graduate, college dropout. Started working at the health club while a junior in high school, and when his dad's settlement came through, he traded in his 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit for a 2005 Hummer H2. He's leased a new Hummer every year since. So he's obviously got money."

I smiled to myself. "Just because you drive a Hummer doesn't mean that you have money; it just means that you _spend_ money. Jacob Black may drive a Hummer, but he has no appreciable income from the club. So he has to be getting the money from somewhere. Is he working elsewhere?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But I checked out a few of the other people on the payroll, a bunch of guys that cropped up once Black Enterprises took over the paper." Alice squinted and searched through a file.

"Here it is; Embry Call, Quil Ateara and Sam Uley."

"Any history on any of them?"

Alice shrugged. "Nothing particularly terrible. A charge of underage drinking and public intox for Quil Ateara. Pled out, got a fine and probation. Back in 2004 Sam Uley was charged with possession of anabolic steroids. He was seventeen, and since he was willing to hand over the name of the guy who provided him with the juice, he got off with probation."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "'Juice?'"

Alice's face was innocent. "What? I'm down with the lingo, you know."

I laughed. "Anything else on Jacob and his pack of friends?"

Alice shrugged. "Not really. Embry had a speeding ticket when he was seventeen, but other than that, they're all pretty clean."

"Have you contacted Billy to request a meeting?"

She nodded. "We meet with them on Wednesday."

"Good. That gives me two days to scope out the club for myself."

* * *

The parking lot at Core Fitness was less than half full, which made it easy to find a spot to park. I glanced around; although I knew she was off today, I looked around for Bella's truck. I don't know if I was more relieved or disappointed to find that she wasn't here.

I checked my watch; eight fifteen AM. The club should have been busy, if not packed, but there was only one person in front of me in the check in area. The front desk attendant was on the phone, so I asked if she would mind if I checked the place out myself. She waved me in with a smile.

I walked around with a critical eye. Old carpeting and furniture ringed the front four racquetball courts in an odd layout. Too many racquetball courts overall, considering the demise of the sport in the past ten years. I imagined converting one of the courts into a spinning center with twenty or so spinning bikes and separate sound system. I moved down the side of the club towards the weight room, taking note of everything from the thin, ragged carpeting to the forlorn and dusty potted plants.

"You certainly look like you could use a weight trainer."

I turned and met the eyes of a well-built man; young, tan, dark hair, synthetically white smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

I returned his smile. "Just moved here. Checking out the fitness clubs in the area."

He nodded. "We have some of the best trainers around. Get you going on a program that's one hundred percent personalized and individually structured."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? You develop a plan for each member?"

He shrugged. "It's what we do." He held out his hand. "Jacob Black."

I shook. "Edward Cullen."

I watched his face carefully, but there was no hint of recognition.

"Well, Edward, you look like you could use some weight training advice. Come on over and I'll introduce you to the equipment."

"Actually, I'm more interested in your treadmills. Are they in the weight area?"

Jacob laughed. "Seriously? You'd prefer the Loser Loop to lifting weights?" He shook his head. "There's no substitute for what weight lifting can provide for your body."

He flexed, curling his lip at his reflection in the lone wall of mirrors behind me.

I smiled. "I'm not much for weights. I'm more of a stamina-oriented person. Anyone can burn out ten reps, but it takes a lot of endurance to run ten miles in a hundred minutes."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Treadmills and ellipticals are that way—" he jerked his thumb toward the other side of the club, "—but if you're interested in doing something to actually _change_ your physique, then weights are the way to go."

"I'll keep that in mind." I turned to inspect the closest machine.

"That's the adductor." Jacob moved the weights to a heavier setting and sat, demonstrating. "You have to make the move as smooth as possible, using only the leg muscles, not momentum." He hissed through five reps, let the weights clang, and stood to check his physique in the mirror behind him.

I nodded. "Can you explain why this machine is turned to face into the area, instead of facing the mirror, like the rest of the machines?"

Jacob smirked, showing his teeth. "Well, it gets a little boring back here sometimes, so if there happens to be a pretty woman doing a little leg work… it's nice to have something to look at when I'm taking a break, know what I mean?" He nodded toward a door across from where we stood, marked FITNESS OPERATIONS MANAGER. Next to the door was a window with mirrored, tinted glass. I caught the outline of a desk and chair on the other side.

"So you watch the female members while they work out?"

"Fuckin' A, bro. Just because I'm off the market doesn't mean I'm dead. Of _course_ I'm going to _look_. My girlfriend understands me." He smiled again as he checked out his reflection.

"You're a lucky man. Most women wouldn't tolerate that."

"Yeah, I guess." He picked at his fingernails. "No big. I mean, we just started dating 'officially'" –he did the air quotes thing – "and it's not serious or anything, but I have to at least _pretend_ to respect her. Well, if I ever intend to get into her pants, right?" He laughed, surprised by his own humor. "I dunno if it's worth it, though. Too much trouble. You know what they say; 'don't shit where you eat.'"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, 'Don't date someone you work with.' It always ends badly. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now, but…" he shrugged, like a little boy who just couldn't help but get into the cookie jar.

"That good, huh?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh yes, bro. Totally worth every second of pain I will inevitably be inflicting upon myself."

I felt my heart rate increase. "So, what's her name?"

"Isabella. But I call her 'Bells'." He laughed. "She hates that name."


	27. Chapter 27

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**A/N: Don't own Twilight. Just Businessward and Stripperbella.**

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**Chapter 26**

"So, what is your assessment?"

It was Monday afternoon, and I'd picked Alice up for lunch after leaving Core Fitness. We'd stopped at the sandwich shop around the corner from the apartment.

I swallowed a bite of sandwich and prepared my answer.

"You're intelligence on the business seems spot-on; no one with any management experience is in charge, and there has been no attempt to keep pace with fitness trends. Jacob Black assigned himself the title of 'Fitness Operations Manager' but there is nothing to suggest that he has any experience in the field, let alone any interest in anything outside of the weight room. In fact, he denigrates the cardio equipment and ogles the female members. The facility hasn't been updated in years; it needs new furnishings and carpet and paint. The clientele is mostly women, thanks to Bella's classes, and there has been no membership push. The front desk attendant didn't even offer me a brochure or pricing information when I told her I wanted to look around." I shook my head. It was a wonder they'd managed to stay afloat for the past six months.

"What do you propose?"

I took a drink of coffee before continuing. "We either need to convince them that they overpaid for the business – which they did, by a good ten to fifteen percent – or, we cut their main source of income to make a sale more palatable."

"How do you intend to do that?"

This was the tricky part. "I know you've been in touch with Bella. I'd like to see if she'd be interested in leaving Core Fitness for a new club; one that's built entirely around her classes. She would have as much or as little input as she wanted. She could be fully involved in all management decisions, or she could come in, do her classes, and leave."

Alice looked skeptical. "I don't know how I could convince her to leave. Besides, how is that going to influence Billy Black to sell his club to us?"

"They have to know that Bella's classes are keeping the club running. If we can woo her away from them, set her up in a new club with state-of-the-art equipment, within one or two blocks of Core, I have a feeling we will put them out of business inside of a year. Once we show Billy Black the data, his handlers will have to advise him to sell to us at a loss, rather than be run into the ground by competition. Especially since this is a venture he doesn't really care about; he's only doing this for his Jacob."

Alice was quiet for a moment. "But, if we invest in a new club, force Core out of business, Billy Black decides to sell… what good is an empty health club to us?"

I smiled. "It's all about the location. Black doesn't own the building; he only leases it. If he breaks his lease, or decides not to renew, we can lowball the property owner into letting us pay lower rent, rather than have it stand empty. Especially if we offer to remodel the facility on our own dime."

I stood to get a refill on our coffees. "There is a third option. We can offer to pay a higher rent than Black is paying. How much time is left on his lease?"

Bella pulled a file from her briefcase and read through the papers while I refilled our coffee cups at the carafe. She waited until I sat down to continue.

"Six months. He agreed to continue the contract with the property owner for a full year as part of the sales agreement."

I thought for a moment. "Is there any clause which allows either party to break the lease without substantial loss?"

She scanned the agreement. "Nothing that's immediately apparent. I can have the lawyers take a look if you want."

I nodded. "Can you fax it to them as soon as we get back to the apartment?"

Alice nodded and made a note. "Sure. So, which scenario is best for us?"

I stirred my coffee and considered this. "Going to the property owner and offering to buy out the lease is certainly the path of least resistance for us, but it won't be without expense. We aren't a big name in LA yet, and we don't have a lot of investors throwing money at us, so it might be more difficult to pull off. Whereas, forcing Billy Black out of business kills a number of birds with a single stone; we can make a name for ourselves as smart, and a force to be reckoned with."

Plus, building a new club would put Emmett to work for a solid six months, give him a chance to test his design chops, and save some money for school. And, if I was being honest with myself, the opportunity to spend some time with Bella was too tempting to pass up. But those were details that Alice didn't necessarily need to know.

"And I'm certain that no small satisfaction would be derived from beating Jacob Black." Alice's tone was light.

My jaw tightened at the mention of his name, but I kept my face impassive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alice laughed. "Please, Edward. I know that you know, _somehow_, that Bella has been seeing Jacob. You haven't asked, so I haven't said anything, but ever since you checked out the club this morning, your eyes darken when either of us says his name."

I smiled at her. "You know, Alice, you should play poker."

She grinned. "I do. How do you think I've managed to keep myself afloat in this economy?"

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "There's not much else to do during the day in Vegas."

"How much have you won?"

Alice cocked her head, contemplating. "Over the past six months? I'd say, fifteen thousand. Give or take."

I laughed. "That's amazing, Alice!"

She shrugged. "Not really. I just have a feeling about how the cards are going to turn out; kind of like how I know what's going to be fashionable next season."

I looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Alice was right; she'd been right about so many things. She'd warned me about the Portless deal, she'd warned me about getting involved with Bella, she'd known something was up with Rosalie. The only exception to her track record was with Jasper; she hadn't known he was going to leave the country. I wondered if Jasper had made his decision spur of the moment and if that was why Alice hadn't seen it coming.

"Getting back to the subject at hand…" Alice raised her eyebrows at me. "Everything hinges on Bella, and whether or not she's going to go along with your idea. How do you plan on approaching her? She hasn't asked about you, probably doesn't even know that you got out of prison."

I nodded. I hadn't asked because not knowing was definitely easier. I took a deep breath.

"Perhaps it's time that she knows what's going on. Why don't you ask her to drop by the apartment?"

* * *

On the way back to the apartment, Alice texted Bella, asked her to come over, and Bella responded with a message that she would stop by between five and six. I spent the rest of the afternoon unable to concentrate on anything. I gave up and paced the dining room like a caged animal, until Alice threw first her pen and then an orange at me. I apologized and retreated to my bedroom.

The buzzer rang at five-thirty that afternoon, and Alice answered it.

"It's me."

My heart raced, and my palms began to sweat. I checked my reflection in the mirror, pondered what she would think, how she would feel when she saw me, wondered if she could possibly know the changes I'd undergone in the year since I'd last seen her.

I heard her voice, heard the door close, and watched her move to the small sofa in the living room. I waited, listened as she chatted easily with Alice, smiled broadly when Alice told her she had decided to settle here permanently.

"That's wonderful! It's because of you I came to L.A., and now I'll get to see you all of the time!" She hugged Alice and the genuineness of her smile made something inside of me crack. I moved into the hallway, and stood just outside of her line of sight.

"Well, it's really a business decision. We're trying to restart the company afresh, make some inroads down here on development projects."

Bella nodded. "Are you working on anything in particular?"

Alice took a deep breath. "Edward and I have a few ideas that we've been working on, and since you're the professional, we thought we'd ask for your input."

_Nicely done, Alice._

Bella looked quizzical. "Edward? You mean…" she trailed off.

Alice nodded. "Yes. Edward is out of prison, and he's here in L.A. working on a project with me."

"Is he…" her voice faltered again, and I couldn't read the look on her face. I thought wildly of hurtling backwards into the bedroom so as not to have to face her, to keep my memories unsullied. I took a deep breath, set my jaw, and stepped into the living room.

"Hello, Bella."

* * *

Her eyes snapped to my face, never wavered. Her mouth opened and closed several times before closing for good. She took a deep breath and nodded politely.

"Edward."

I didn't say anything, just stood, watching. Alice moved off of the couch but I didn't move, didn't want to frighten her, to say the wrong thing.

"Would you like something to drink? We have bottled water, coffee, tea?" Alice, the polite hostess.

Bella shook her head, but her gaze never wavered from my face. I felt my heart racing, wondered what was going through her mind, wished I knew how best to approach her.

Alice moved discreetly into the kitchen to give us some privacy.

My nerves got the better of me, and I pushed my hands into my hair.

Bella chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"Your hands. In your hair. Some things never change, I guess."

I smiled grimly. "Nervous habit. Still having trouble breaking it."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You? Nervous? I never would have imagined."

It was my turn to chuckle. "More than you can imagine."

Bella hadn't moved, but she hadn't cursed at me and run screaming from the apartment, so I assumed it was safe to move closer. "May I sit down?" I asked.

She nodded, watching me. I tried not to notice.

I sat in the chair to the left of the couch and met her eyes with mine.

"How have you been?" _Thank God she can't see into my mind, know what a mental mess I am right now._

She was nodding. "Fine. Well, actually. I'm working at a health club, temping part time and going to school at night."

"Really? What are you studying?"

"Business." She crossed her ankles and sat back on the couch.

I nodded. "You have a good mind for it, you'll do well."

She didn't answer, just continued to meet my gaze.

I cleared my throat. "Well, the reason Alice asked you here was for me. I need to talk to you."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Please, Edward, I don't want some big, emotional scene where you apologize for what you did, how much you devastated me and destroyed any hope of a relationship—"

"No, Bella. That's not my intention." My heart ached as I realized what she was telling me. I pushed my feelings aside and concentrated on the reason she was here.

"Alice and I are trying to restart The Cullen Group, as she said. There is a particular venture that we are interested in, but we need your help with it, if you are interested."

Bella's eyes narrowed. "I should have known this would be about business." There was a hardness to her eyes that I didn't quite understand.

"What is it?"

Alice moved into the living room and handed us each a bottle of water before assuming her seat on the couch.

"We're interested in buying Core Fitness."

I was surprised by Bella's laugh. "Seriously? You're thinking about buying a health club?" She laughed again. "What do you even know about the industry?"

I looked at Alice, motioned for her to interject. Alice leaned forward and intercepted Bella's gaze.

"Our research has shown that your classes are the only successful thing about the club. Billy Black bought it six months ago and handed it over to his son Jacob, who has run it into the ground. Your classes are keeping it afloat, despite the fact that he's sabotaging the club's success at every turn."

Bella bristled. "Jake is doing fine. It's the economy that's the problem – no one is interested in paying money for fitness right now."

"Then why are your classes booked months in advance? Why is it that you only had to ask once before they installed extra poles for you, but they haven't updated a single piece of equipment throughout the club? Did you know that half of the treadmills out of service, and that the running track needs repaired?"

Bella's eyes grew large. "How did you know that?"

I'd played my hand too early. _Damn._

"Do you know how much they charge for your classes?"

"Answer my question first."

I nodded and leaned forward. "Bella, I make it a priority to find out everything I can about an investment before pursuing it. I know everything about this club, from their income to their expenditures to their taxes. I know their lease agreements, I know how much the employees make. So don't be surprised that I know these things, OK?"

Her eyes hardened. "Just like you knew that Davis Portless liked blondes?"

I bit my lip and nodded. "Yes, Bella. Just like I knew Davis Portless liked blondes." I tried to keep my voice even, free of sorrow.

"Now, do you know how much they charge for your classes?"

Bella shrugged. "Jake just gave me a raise, so I'm making fifteen an hour. I guess they're probably charging a fifty or so an hour."

I shook my head. "What about the instructor classes?"

Her eyebrows knit in concentration. "A couple hundred, I'd imagine."

It appeared that Jacob Black was keeping her in the dark about more than just his interest in hooking up with other women.

I leaned forward, made certain that her attention was on me. I tried to ignore the skip of my pulse when she met my eyes. "The Strippercise classes are three hundred for each student, and the instructor classes are eight hundred per participant."

Bella's eyes widened. "That's unbelievable. I mean, I had no idea that they were making so much…" she trailed off, and her eyes darkened in understanding.

"He's not reinvesting it into the club? Are you sure?"

Alice nodded. "All of the Strippercise instructors are making the same as you, even though you're the most-senior instructor on staff. No equipment purchases or updates since he took over, although he did buy a house and started some renovations on it within a week of his dad purchasing the club."

Bella blinked. "Wait a minute… his _dad_ owns the club? I thought—Jacob said—" she pressed her temples with her fingertips. I barely resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand, to help her through this. I could read the struggle, her attempt to make sense of it all, written in the lines that creased her forehead.

She straightened, cleared her throat, looked from my face to Alice's with an earnestness that warmed my heart. I bit my lip to keep from smiling; I didn't want her to think I was condescending.

"Show me the proof."

With a small nod, Alice reached down, removed a sheaf of papers from the accordion file at her feet, and passed them to Bella.

I watched Bella as her eyes searched through the papers in her hands, chewed her lip when the information wasn't clear, asked intelligent questions about the data before her. She nodded, rested the documents on her lap. Her eyes met mine and held for a moment before she spoke.

"How did you get this information?"

I knew what she was asking me. _Did you buy someone off? Did you pay someone to sleep with someone else to get this? Did _you _sleep with someone to get it?_

The look on her face cut me to the quick. I blinked and looked at my hands, steadying myself.

_Keep it together, Cullen._

I blew out a breath. "The tax records were available online, as was the lien information. The operations information, including payroll and the books, was picked out of the trash."

Bella's eyes grew wider. "You went Dumpster diving?"

I gave her a half smile, the one that I knew used to make her heart race. I watched the flush creep up to her collarbone, cover her neck and cheeks before she tore her gaze away.

"In a word, yes. It's amazing how much sensitive information is thrown away instead of being shredded." I shook my head in mock admonishment.

She twisted her hands in her lap, and I wondered if she missed her knitting needles. I wondered briefly what she was working on now; another pair of socks? For whom was she knitting them?

"I need to know something."

Her voice brought me out of my reverie and I waited.

"I need to know that you're being honest with me at all times. I refuse to be involved with anything illegal." She lifted her eyes to mine, and they were strong, steely, unwavering.

I nodded. "No question, Bella. I'm on parole, and I have to be very careful. I promise you, everything with this project is above-board."

Her eyes searched mine, as if she could read the truth in them.

Finally, she nodded and looked between me and Alice.

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

**A/N: So Bella is starting to see that perhaps Jacob Black isn't as forthcoming with her as she had initially thought. I wonder what else he's keeping from her?**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Twilight owned by Stephenie Meyer. I like Edward in a business suit.**

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**Chapter 27**

I was surprised. I had anticipated that it would take an extensive amount of time to convince Bella to work with us. I stifled a smile.

"Well, we have several options available to us. We could buy the business outright from Billy Black, expand the Strippercise classes, hire you full-time to handle scheduling and management, and give you a raise. Then we can sell the club for a profit, and use the proceeds to reinvest into a new business."

I watched Bella as she nodded, wondering if she was imagining herself behind a desk, managing the business. I smiled to myself.

"OK. What other options do you have?"

Alice leaned forward, intercepting Bella's gaze. "We could invest in a space close by, convert it into a Strippercise club, and take all of Core's business away. We'd offer lower rates, market it as a women-only gym, really cut into their client base. Then when they're suffering, we make a lowball offer."

Bella nodded, her brow furrowed.

"Why would you want to go through the hassle of starting up a new club for the sole purpose of taking away their business, and then buying Core in the end anyway?"

"We get the business, and we make a name for ourselves. Get noticed, get some financial backing for our next venture." Alice held up her hands in a _See how neat and tidy this is? _gesture.

Bella shrugged. "I guess I'd be willing to do either, providing we can agree on some details."

I met Alice's eyes, read the question there. _What does she want?_

Bella squared her shoulders and met my gaze. "I want a raise. If I'm going to be working on this full-time, I need to at least be able to make up for leaving my temp job."

I nodded. "We had already intended that this would be the case."

"Number two." She ticked them off on her fingers. "I want a percentage of the business. A 'finder's fee', if you will. If you are able to buy Core from Billy Black, I want a fifteen percent finder's fee. If you decide instead to open another club, I want a fifteen percent on the sale of that club as well. No wait – the whole program will have to be redesigned from the ground up, which means more time and effort on my part. Make that twenty percent."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. She'd learned a lot about business in the short time we'd spent together. I wonder how much she'd picked up on her own, and how much had come from her business classes.

"You drive a hard bargain," I let the smile slip through. "You've got one hell of a business mind."

Her return smile was quick, perfunctory. "I read a lot. Wall Street Journal, L.A. Business Journal, Investor's Business Daily."

I resisted the urge to turn around in my seat; those very newspapers sat in a neat stack next to my laptop on the dining room table. _Did she really read them? Or was she posturing?_

"Did you see the article in IBD last week about venture capitalist interest in the healthcare sector?" She looked as if she knew that she had just read my mind.

I nodded. "Yes, Bella, I did. And I seem to recall that you had the same idea a year and a half ago, when you were trying to convince me to invest in nursing homes."

_See, Bella, I remember. I remember everything about you, and me…_

She shook her head. "No, Edward, I believe we were discussing assisted-living facilities. There's a difference."

I nodded. "Is that the extent of your demands?"

"One last thing."Her eyes hardened again, bore into mine. "I want you to stay out of my personal life."

I blinked. This was completely unexpected, I had no idea where she got the idea…

"Of course." I choked out. Did she think I was using this business venture as an excuse to reinsert myself into her life?"

_Well? Aren't you?_

I cut off the voice in my head and stood. "Please make certain, Bella, that you keep this information strictly confidential. If Billy or Jacob Black finds out that you are involved in this business deal, it will probably not end well for you professionally. I would take that under careful advisement. If there's nothing else?" My own voice was curt, sounded strange in my own ears.

Bella stood, watched me closely. She nodded.

"We'll be in touch. Alice?" I turned, made my way into my bedroom. I sat on my bed, heart thudding, a strange feeling of anger and frustration welling within me. I rose and paced the room, felt caged in the small space. As I strode, I strained to hear their words, but their muffled exchange gave no hint of context.

The front door opened and closed, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I was holding. I don't know what I had expected from our little meeting, but it certainly wasn't this.

* * *

Wednesday morning at five minutes to nine, Alice and I pulled into the lot at Core Fitness. A large black Lincoln Navigator was parked in the fire lane, side door open, wheelchair lift extended. I looked at Alice and she nodded.

"That's Billy Black."

The man in the chair had long, black hair caught at the nape of his neck in a sleek ponytail. His skin was dark russet, his jaw square, his eyes dark. He was talking on his cell phone while a dark-suited man rolled his wheelchair off of the lift. The man moved the lift back into the vehicle, while two other men escorted Billy through the doors and carried his chair down several steps towards the front desk.

Alice and I made our way into the club.

"Mr. Black?" Alice smiled down at him. He closed his phone, and she reached for his hand.

"Miss Cullen?" Billy Black's mouth split into a wide grin of perfect, professionally-whitened teeth. He appraised her in a way that reminded me how beautiful she was, and that other men saw it. "If I'd known how beautiful you were, Miss Cullen, I would have taken your phone calls directly instead of making you deal with my assistant."

Alice laughed heartily, but I noticed that she didn't correct him, didn't say 'Please, call me Alice.' She turned and introduced me.

I nodded and shook his hand, met his eyes directly. "Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Black."

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen. Shall we?" His assistants sprang into action, turning his chair and moving him farther into the club. "Health clubs aren't really built to be handicapped-accessible, so we have to use the freight elevator in the back in order to get upstairs to the offices." He shrugged. "What can I say, I bought the club as a gift for my son. I guess I was willing to overlook a few inconveniences for his sake." His smile was broad, but there was a darker message threaded among his words.

I slowed my pace and fell to back of the group, slipping into the weight area before the rest of them turned the corner. There was a spiral staircase that I had noticed on Monday, and I wanted to see where it led.

I climbed the carpeted steps quietly, and discovered a catwalk of sorts; to the left was a racquetball court that had been carpeted and converted into an aerobic studio. To the right I looked down through the opening into several smaller studios; one had spinning cycles, and two others were set up with stripper poles.

The lights were on in the middle room, and I could hear music. I moved to the center of the catwalk, peered down into the room below, trying to place the song.

_I know I don't know you_

_But I want you so bad_

_Everyone has a secret_

_But can they keep it_

_Oh no they can't…_

I caught movement along the back wall; a reflection in the mirror that spanned the width of the room. A whirl of hair and heels, of lips and legs.

Bella.

My heart caught like an engine, and I stooped to get a better angle.

Her eyes were closed, her body against the pole, hips swaying to the beat. She moved her hips, her hands crested across her breasts, moved down her stomach, she gripped the hem of her shorts and pulled, flexing her arms and sliding down the pole, legs and lips wide.

I felt myself grow hard at the sight of her, the memories of us together washing through my brain.

I closed my eyes and turned my head, not wanting to intrude on her privacy. I heard a voice, distinctly male, and the track changed. I looked down into the room before me and saw her, standing with her arms around the pole, and a man standing before her.

Jacob Black.

He moved toward her, grasped her hand, pulled her away from her position. He held her right hand in his left, rested his other hand on her waist. She laughed as he twirled her clumsily, pretending to drop her before pulling her close to him.

His hand left hers and trailed down her arm, down her side, to her lower back, where he grasped her and pulled her against him, grinding his hips into hers lasciviously as the music played—

_She's hopped up on me  
I've got her in my zone  
Her body's pressed up on me  
I think she's ready to blow_

She smiled up at him and pushed against his chest, "No, Jake."

He responded by pulling her closer, grabbing her ass and thrusting against her.

"Whoa, Jake, that's enough."

I felt the heat of my anger as it ripped through me. I tore down the steps and strode through the studio door before Justin Timberlake could whine out the next chorus.

"Jacob," I called.

He whirled to face me, pushing Bella behind him. She pulled herself from his grasp and I noticed her rubbing her arm where he had been holding her. My blood boiled and I struggled to maintain my composure. I realized that I had acted without a plan; there was no reason for me to be in this room, no excuse or reasonable explanation for my being here.

I thought quickly. "Are you coming to the meeting?" It seemed a logical question.

Jacob's face was a mass of confusion. "It's… Edward, right? What are you doing here?"

I fought against my anger, struggled to keep my mind clear. _So his father hadn't told him about our meeting. Interesting._

"My firm is meeting with your father about purchasing this club. I thought you were in on the meeting." I relaxed my hands, releasing them from the balled fists at my sides.

Jacob's face darkened immediately, and his jaw set in a hard line. Without another word, he stalked out of the studio, slamming the door behind him.

I met Bella's eyes, and was shocked by the fury I found there. "What in holy fuck do you think you're _doing_?" she bellowed.

I was at a complete loss. "I—saw him, and thought that he might be hurting you…" I didn't want her to know that I was watching from the catwalk above; I forced myself to refrain from looking up, and instead I motioned toward the door. She ignored me, undocked her iPod, slipped off her shoes and grabbed her bag. She stormed toward me and stopped, her face alight with fury, inches from my own.

"I told you last night to stay out of my personal life. I can handle Jacob Black, I don't need you interfering."

She blew past me, opened and slammed through the door before I could respond.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Alice hissed at me.

I made my way upstairs via a stairwell, had found Alice standing in a hallway outside what I assumed was Billy Black's office. The door was closed and the noise inside was tremendous.

"What did you do?" Her gaze was a heat-seeking missile.

I shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her laser beam eyes honed in on me again. "You disappeared. We held the elevator for you, but you were gone. I had to make small talk with Billy Black and his goons." Her face was horrified and her voice dropped to a whisper.

"I had to _flirt_ with him, Edward."

I shrugged. "I was just looking around, Alice."

She gave me The Alice Eyebrow, her very own patented bullshit detector.

"What's going on in there?"

She blinked once. "Jacob came tearing into Billy's office a few minutes ago, yelling that Billy could sell this club over his dead body. I excused myself and was standing here for five minutes before you showed up." She shook her head. "How did Jacob know that we're here?"

"I think that might be my fault, Alice—" I was cut off by the door swinging open, slamming into the wall behind it. Jacob Black stood in the doorway, staring murder into my eyes.

"Jacob." Billy Black's voice was strong, an order meant to be followed.

Jacob moved aside, never taking his eyes from my face. I looked at Billy and nodded.

"Mr. Cullen, Miss Cullen, I wish to apologize for this interruption—"

"If you think you're going to buy this club, you can go fuck yourself!" Jacob's voice was a snarl.

Billy Black sighed. "Jacob? Please? I will handle this."

Jacob circled to my right, stopped and stood in the corner of the office, facing me. I ignored him and addressed Billy directly.

"I understand if you'd like to discuss this at a later time."

Billy's eyes darted to Jacob, then back to me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cullen, but at this point in time, I am not prepared to entertain any offers on the business."

I nodded. "I hope you change your mind. If you do, you know where to reach us."

I turned to Alice. "Shall we?"

With my back to Jacob, I held the door for Alice, and we left.

* * *

"Why did you go out of your way to ignore Jacob?"

Alice and I had stopped for lunch before heading back to the apartment and an afternoon of work. We were doing our normal post-game analysis, but since the meeting had been cut short, there wasn't much to discuss.

I shrugged. "He wanted to be perceived as a threat. By ignoring him completely, I showed him that I disregarded him. He held no threat, and therefore, no power. It was purely a mental battle. And he lost."

I speared my roll with my fork and gave Alice my best warrior grimace. She laughed and shook her head at me.

"OK, Leonidas." She reached for her drink. "What are we going to do about this deal?"

"We need to determine how serious Billy Black is about the sale. Obviously he's interested; otherwise, he never would have agreed to meet us to discuss it. On the other hand, he may have been hoping to make the sale without Jacob's knowledge. At this point, we can't convince him on the grounds of solvency alone; the club isn't a cash cow, but it isn't hemorrhaging, either. It's probably a pet project, something to keep Jacob busy and out of his hair. I don't think he's going to go along easily. And he certainly isn't hurting for money."

Alice leaned over conspiratorially. "Did you see what he was wearing? His undershirt is a three-hundred-dollar Dolce & Gabbana. The sweater? Was a cashmere Loro Piana – they run a thousand bucks a piece." Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.

I smirked at her. "Alice, were you excited by his clothes?"

She punched my arm in a decidedly un-Alice-like manner. "Loro Piana, Edward. _Loro Piana!"_

I laughed. "Well, if this business deal doesn't go through, you can always jump ship and see if he'll hire you as his personal stylist."

Alice's eyes had the far off look that women usually reserve for planning weddings or babies. "Oh, Edward. Don't tempt me."

* * *

We spent several hours driving around, scouting potential lease sites for a new club. Back at the apartment, I did some more research, called to schedule some walkthroughs on several locations. Alice had an early appointment, so she turned in around eleven.

Her phone rang at midnight. I heard her sleepy voice as she answered, and hoped that it was Jasper calling. She hadn't mentioned him much lately, but I knew she wanted to hear from him. The nine-hour time difference between L.A. and Frankfurt made for awkward talk times.

Alice's door opened and she walked into the dining room, pulling her hoodie on over her pajama top. "Calm down, Bella. What happened?"

My senses snapped to attention and I stared at Alice, trying my best to read her face, tell what information was coming into her mind.

_What is it? What's happened to Bella?_

* * *

**"Secret" by Maroon 5. "FutureSexLoveSoun" by Justin Timberlake.**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: **** Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's. Calculatingward, StripperBella and Jacob the jackass are mine, all mine.**

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**Chapter 29**

Alice was nodding, face serious. "All right. Don't go anywhere, we'll be there in a few minutes." She paused, her eyes met mine. "I can't – I mean, I have to tell him, he's standing right here."

I held out my hand for the phone, but she shook her head at me.

"Hang on a sec, Bella." She muted the phone and explained.

"Jake showed up to her apartment drunk. He accused her of trying to convince Billy to sell the club, threatened her with a knife, and now he's passed out on the living room floor. She's locked in the bathroom and doesn't know what to do."

I held out my hand for the phone, and this time she handed it to me.

"Bella? Stay where you are. We'll be right there."

* * *

"We're pulling into the lot, Bella. Can you get out of the bathroom and buzz the door?"

Alice screeched to a stop in front of Bella's building and told her we'd see her in a minute before disconnecting. I didn't waste time admiring her calmness as she talked to Bella on the way here. My tongue was frozen to the roof of my mouth; there were no words warm or meaningful enough to thaw my lips.

I was out of the passenger seat before she'd put the car in park, feet barely touching the ground as I raced for the entrance. There was relief in the motion, the movement; I was able to do something, help her.

_Help myself. _

"Number 302, Edward," Alice called as the buzzer sounded. I pulled on the front door and flew up the steps two at a time. The carpet muffled my tread as I made my way along the silent corridor, but I feared the pounding in my chest could be heard throughout the building.

Suite 302 was at the end of the hall on the right, facing the back parking lot. I knocked lightly on the door and it was opened immediately.

Bella stood before me, clad in pajamas with a large sweater wrapped tightly around her. Her eyes shone with fear and trepidation, and it took every ounce of my self control to refrain from gathering her into my arms and comforting her.

_She was safe. Thank God._

I swallowed and did my best to get a grip. "Are you OK?"

She nodded grimly and tucked a stray strand of hair back into the messy knot at the back of her head.

I pulled her into the hallway and shut the door quietly behind her. "What happened?"

She took a deep breath, and despite her voice being barely above a whisper, I heard the tremor it contained. "Jake showed up here drunk about an hour ago. I wasn't going to let him in, but he pushed past me. He started yelling at me, telling me how ungrateful I am, that I turned my back on him and his father and that I'm trying to put them out of business. Then he started accusing me of cheating on him." She laughed, a mirthless bark. "He grabbed a knife out of the kitchen drawer…" she trailed off, closing her eyes.

Alice materialized beside me and pulled Bella into a comforting embrace. I felt a twinge of jealousy at the ease with which she reached for Alice, but I maintained my composure.

"Have you said anything about the business deal to anyone? Something in passing, that might have been overheard and repeated to him?" I kept my tone even and non-accusatory.

Bella shook her head. "It makes no sense; I was working there before Billy bought the club, and I have no idea how he even knows that I talked to you about the sale the other night. I haven't mentioned a single word to anyone."

Alice and I looked at each other. "Maybe he's just being paranoid, doesn't have any proof?"

"So, he's grasping at straws. You said he's drunk; does he get like this often?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't usually drink this much, and to be out driving around? It's not like him. It seems like the past month or so that he's gotten increasingly manic about stuff; what he eats, working out, his house. It's weird."

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"He's on the couch, passed out. He finished off a fifth of vodka that he had with him, and broke the bottle in the kitchen. He was still holding the knife, though."

My brain whirled as I ran scenarios in my mind. I needed to get her to safety, away from this apartment, away from the danger that was just beyond her door. But she needed to be the one to make the decision about her own safety.

I closed my eyes and contemplated the best way to approach it.

"Bella, I don't think it's safe for you to stay here as long as Jacob is here. There is room at our apartment if you would like to stay the night."

Her eyes searched mine, and I saw something flicker in them. Gratitude, perhaps?

_It was enough._

She nodded.

"Would you like us to call the police?" The blood surged through my veins at the thought; Jacob arrested, Bella able to choose whether or not to press charges … what a bargaining position for us to have over Billy Black.

The voice in my head spoke. _It's her decision._

Her brow wrinkled as she thought a moment. She shook her head. "I don't want to have him arrested. I figure he'll sober up and leave in the morning. He probably won't even remember what he did." She smiled, a small, wistful curve of her lip.

I tore my eyes away from her lips, met her gaze. "You know that he might do this again, Bella, if you don't put a stop to it now."

Her eyes hardened. "Are you telling me what to do, Edward?"

"No, Bella. I'm merely pointing out the potential danger. I don't want to see you get hurt."

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, the door behind her opened. Filling the doorway was a drunk and disheveled Jacob Black, eyes rimmed with red, hair and clothes askew.

His face was puffy and lined from the couch pillows, dried drool crusted on his chin. His blank expression turned mean when he saw Alice and me standing in the hall with Bella.

"What the fuck is going on?" he bellowed, and reached forward to grab at Bella. Alice was faster, and in one swift movement pulled Bella behind her and began backing slowly down the hall. I stepped in front of them both, facing Jacob, blocking his exit from the apartment.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jacob roared, his anger rolling off of him with the stench of old alcohol and unwashed clothes. He stepped forward into the hall and I maneuvered myself in front of him, blocking the women.

"Jacob." I snapped his name, garnered his full attention. "You are lucky that Bella has decided not to press charges against you. You'd better be gone by the time we get back, or I will be the one phoning the police. And you can bet that I will make certain that you are arrested for this."

His eyes bore into mine, the deadness within them disconcerting.

"You know, I don't like you showing up at my girlfriend's apartment like this. It might make me think something's going on between you two."

We stood, locked in a combat of wills, measuring, appraising the foe. I met his narrowed stare, unblinking, unmoving. Despite being almost the same height, I knew that I was no match for his strength, and my only option to best him was through a display of confidence. I mentally went through all of the pressure points on the human body, wondering which one to use first if he decided to confront me physically.

The door across from Bella's opened and her neighbor poked his head out. "Dude. It's, like, one-thirty in the morning. You think you could shut the fuck up already?"

Jacob broke away from staring at me and turned his rheumy eyes on the man to my right. His face contorted into a mask of anger, and he screamed down the hall, "I will get you for this, you lying, cheating bitch!" He balled his fists and punched a hole through wall next to the neighbor's door before turning and stumbling down the back stairs.

I stood, unmoving, waited until I heard the slamming of the back door.

Bella's neighbor turned his now sleepless eyes on me. "Dude. What an asshole."

* * *

I drove while Alice and Bella sat in the back seat. Bella was wired, her nervous energy a manifestation of the adrenaline still coursing through her system. She pushed forward between the front seats and scanned the channels until she found a song she liked. I breathed the scent of her in; her shampoo, her breath. There was a warmth to her, as if she was diffusing her adrenaline into the air around her.

_A kick in the teeth is good for some  
A kiss with a fist is better than none…_

After a few minutes I turned down the radio and looked at her reflection. "Can you think of any way that Jacob might have found out that you were considering going into business with us?"

Bella stared out of the window and shook her head. "No, I already told you; I didn't say a word to anybody about it."

"What about your cell phone?" Alice asked.

Bella's face was blank in the rearview mirror. "What do you mean?"

My jaw set in a grim line. "Does Jake have access to your cell phone?"

Bella shrugged. "Sometimes. I mean I always have it with me. He hasn't been around much lately."

"Do you have an online account set up for your phone?"

Her face was thoughtful. "Yeah, I pay my bill that way."

I chose my words carefully, wanting to make certain that she understood I was making suggestions, not telling her what to do. "Bella, you might want to call your landlord tomorrow and request that they change the locks on your apartment. Even if you have to pay for it, it's more important that you're safe."

She nodded.

"What he did tonight was very dangerous. You said that this is abnormal behavior for him?"

She nodded again, met my eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Just the past month he's been acting really weird; aggressive, mood swings… he kept apologizing, saying that he was under a lot of stress with his house remodel, complaining that his GC is yanking him around."

Alice spoke. "Why do you think he accused you of cheating on him?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he thinks that because I won't put out for him, that I'm giving it up to someone else." Even in the darkness of the car, I could sense the flush that spread over her cheeks. I smiled to myself.

_So they hadn't been intimate._

I drove to a 24-hour pharmacy so that we could pick up some toiletries. Bella begged Alice to go in for her, since she was in her pajamas. We sat in the car, and Bella checked out the back window every few minutes, jumped when a car started next to us.

I turned in my seat and met her eyes. "Bella, you're safe now."

She nodded, but her eyes darted from window to window, as if the darkness would break through and grab her.

I reached a hand between the seats and grasped hers. It was cold; the blood had retreated from her fingers.

"You're safe now."

Her eyes met mine, and filled with tears.

"It's OK. You're safe now."

The tears began to fall, patted gently on her knees, as a sob broke through her lips.

"It's OK, Bella. It's OK."

She leaned forward, rested her head against the back of my seat, and began to weep.

I pulled on her hand, pulled her towards me, over the seat, settled her into my lap, and cradled her against me. I held her, kept her, let her let go of whatever she had been holding. I took her tears, took her pain, her anguish, her fear.

After a few minutes her sobs slowed, and soon she was quiet in my arms. She squeezed my hand once as a signal; her tears were at an end. I moved her as gently as I could into the passenger seat, pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder, made it fast. She sat, staring out of the passenger window, silent and still.

Alice returned with Bella's items and slid into the back seat. I caught her questioning glance in the rearview mirror, shrugged in response. She nodded, pulled out her BlackBerry, and checked her texts.

My mind was a jumble of thoughts as I pulled out of the parking lot._ What was wrong with Jacob? Could he really harm Bella? Did he know that she was discussing the acquisition with us, or was he simply paranoid?_ And, the most frightening question of all: _Could I keep her safe?_

I turned the car toward home, and felt Bella's fingers, warmed by my touch, as they found my hand and squeezed gently. _Thank you._

I squeezed back. _You're welcome._

I waited, but she didn't pull away. I smiled to myself, let my heart race a little, reveling in her touch, her choice.

*** * ***

**Special licks and strokes for Mr. O'Connor, who offered his anecdotal experience of arresting an asshole in full-blown 'roid rage.' Cops just aren't paid enough for the shit they deal with.**

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	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Don't own Twilight.**

**Special thanks to Shalu for her beta skillz while Wifey Beta was in Mexico. You rock the Kasbah, bb.**

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**Chapter 30**

I unlocked the apartment and did a complete walk-through before letting Alice and Bella in. They stared at me with baleful eyes, but safety was not something I intended to take lightly. I cleared the rooms and ushered them in, happy when the door was finally locked behind us.

Alice made a beeline to the kitchen. "Bella, are you hungry?"

"Starved. Do you need a hand, Alice?"

Alice waved her out of the way. "Not enough room in this kitchen for me, let alone anyone else. What do you want?"

Bella shrugged. "Sandwich? Whatever is easiest."

Alice stuck a hand out of the doorway, bottle of Red Zinfandel in it. "Give this to Edward to open." She passed a corkscrew and three glasses out to us. I opened the wine and poured, holding up my hand when Bella reached for her glass.

"It hasn't had time to breathe yet."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I need something to settle my nerves, Edward. I don't really care if it's breathed yet or not." She took a drink, sighed, and put her glass down on the table.

I opened my mouth to explain to her the importance of aeration… and I shut it. I let it go.

I growled at myself in disbelief. _Did it matter, really? Did I always have to be in control? Wasn't it her choice if she drank a glass of fucking wine when she wanted to?_

Bella looked at me, startled.

I held up my hand. "Sorry, it wasn't… you… Just…never mind." I tugged at my hair, mortified, felt like an idiot.

I moved to the kitchen doorway. "Alice, anything you need me to do?"

Her hand appeared again, this time with napkins. "Put these on the table and stay out of my way."

Five minutes later, three paper plates with grilled cheese sandwiches were on the table. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I bit into mine. We ate in silence for a few minutes before Alice asked Bella about Jacob.

"What do you think was wrong with him tonight?"

Bella shrugged her shoulders and looked at her plate while she chewed. "I think he was drunk. He didn't really say much…"

I watched her, but she kept her eyes averted. I sensed that there was something she was not revealing, but I let it go. She'd tell us in her own time.

Alice cocked her head to one side. "What I don't get is how he put you and Edward together. I mean, it's not like you talked to Edward at all about this, or discussed this over the phone with him where Jake had a chance to overhear. You've only talked to me on the phone once, and you've only been here once since Edward got here."

I reached for a potato chip. "Probably from the club—" I stopped myself. I'd never told Alice what I'd seen happen between Jacob and Bella before our meeting with Billy Black.

Bella took a sip of wine. "Well, there was that little thing with you barging in on us in the studio. He probably got pissed off about that."

Alice made a show of turning her head to look at me. "What is she talking about, Edward?"

Bella grinned. "You mean he didn't tell you?" Her eyes flashed with a wicked gleam. "I was practicing in the studio when Jake showed up. He started messing with me a little; you know, getting a little too close? Edward here swooped in to save me." She laughed.

"You can take the knight out of his shiny armor…" she took a sip of wine and cut her eyes at me.

_Was she… flirting?_

I felt the leap of my heart in my chest, but I shut it down immediately.

_Now is not the time for this._

I was determined not to take the bait. "You certainly didn't look unfazed by Jacob Black. If I were a betting man, I'd say he'd have had you pinned in three moves." I returned her gaze; matched her coyness with steel.

She dropped her eyes, and I saw the flush wash across her cheeks.

_Damn, was she embarrassed?_

We finished eating in silence, and I cleared the table. By the time I'd finished straightening the kitchen, Alice and Bella had moved onto the couch, claiming the bottle of wine as their property. I moved into the living room, held my glass out for a refill, and returned to the living room to work while they talked.

After about an hour, Alice stifled a yawn and stood.

"I need to get to bed. Why don't you take my room, and I'll sleep on the couch?"

Bella declined. "No way, Alice. I'm already putting you both out with this situation. The least I can do is sleep on the couch."

I turned in my chair. "Bella, take my bedroom. I'm going to be up for a while, anyway. I'll crash on the couch when I get tired, and this way, I won't keep you awake."

"Edward, thank you, but I don't want to impose any more than I already have."

I shook my head. "Bella, it's truly not an imposition. You need a good night's sleep, and you won't get it on the couch. I insist."

She nodded and met my eyes. "Thanks, Edward."

* * *

It was after two before Alice and Bella finally turned in. I couldn't have slept if I wanted to, still consumed with market research and outlining ideas for the new club.

I yawned and stretched, checking my watch; three-thirty. I made up the couch with the pillow and blanket Alice had given me, and realized that I hadn't gotten my sleep pants out of my room before Bella had done to bed. I noticed a light under the door, and wondered if she'd been able to fall asleep.

I pulled off my shirt and pants, settled myself on the couch, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

_The pistol cracks at the start of the race, and the runners around me start off at an easy pace. I am confident in my ability, my training; I'm ready for this. I start moving. I'm running, but I'm not advancing. No matter how hard I push myself, I can't move forward a single step. All of the other runners pass me, and then the walkers. I'm sweating and sucking air, but I'm going nowhere. I look down at my feet; they are a blur of movement. I look up, and Bella is standing before me. She opens her mouth, there are no words. The blood pounding in my ears blocks all sound, and I strain to hear, but I still can't make out what she's trying to tell me._

_I look down at my feet, and I see that I'm on a treadmill at the SoCal 5K._

* * *

"Help me! Oh my God, please, help me!"

The scream tore through my brain, drilling me into wakefulness. I rolled off of the couch and stumbled headlong across the living room, slamming into the bedroom where Bella was. The light from the nightstand illuminated her, sheets twisted around her neck and shoulders as she writhed. I grasped her shoulders and then unwound the bedding.

"Bella. Bella! Wake up, Bella. You're dreaming. Wake up!"

Her eyes were wide and glassy in sleep, her mouth slack. She stopped moving, her breathing relaxed, and the fear in her eyes was replaced by comprehension. She blinked and stilled.

"I'm – I'm sorry."

"What happened? Are you OK?" I heard Alice call from her room. A moment later she walked into the room, cinching the belt of her bathrobe closed, and moved to sit beside Bella on the bed.

"What was it?" I asked.

Bella shook her head. "It was just a bad dream… Jacob." She screwed up her face, and I could tell that she was doing her best to keep from crying. I looked away.

Alice's voice was soothing. "What is it, Bella?"

Bella sniffled and did her best to stay composed. "Tonight? When Jacob came over?"

Alice and I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Bella sniffed. "I didn't want to tell you this…." She took a deep breath. "Jacob has been angry at me for the past few days. The other day, his friends Sam, Quil and Embry were there. They were supposed to be working the front desk and cleaning the studios, but instead they were hanging out in the weight room. They had their music up so loud, members were complaining. I went over to ask him to turn it down, and I saw that they were…" she shook her head at the memory. "Sam and Quil tried to hide the needles, but I saw them. They were injecting him… Jacob."

My eyes met Alice's and we nodded in understanding.

_Jacob Black was using steroids._

I kept my voice calm, nonchalant. "Is that why Jacob was so upset with you?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "I told him that the club was no place for that shit, that he was jeopardizing the job of everyone who worked there. He got angry; yelled at me for interfering, told me to 'go strip or something'. Tonight, he was drunk when he showed up and wanted to stay over. I told him to sleep on the couch, and he refused. Told me he wanted to 'try out some of those moves I was practicing.' I told him no, that I wasn't going to sleep with him when he was drunk. He got mad. Grabbed me by the hair and put the knife against my throat." Her hands moved to her neck, absently rubbing the thin skin there. "He told me…." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He said that he wanted to cut my throat…to feel my blood running out of my body, to feel my life running through his fingers."

Her voice broke in a sob, and Alice held her close.

The pieces came together… the moodiness and paranoia that Bella had described; the manic way in which he worked out and watched his diet. I felt the anger wash through me like a tidal wave of acid. In a moment of rage, I wanted nothing more than to track down and kill Jacob Black for the fear he had instilled in Bella. He had violated her in her own home, threatened her, and then followed her here to this place of safety and continued to torment her in her dreams.

My brain searched desperately for a way, _any _way, to make him pay for what he had done. I looked at Bella, the anxiety clear on her face. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and saw the anger and darkness in my expression. With a jolt I realized that Bella's anxiety was about me; she thought _I_ was angry at _her_. I blinked and sat down on the other side of the bed.

"Bella." She continued to meet my gaze. I nodded in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "We will find a way to keep you safe. He will not hurt you." She gave me a small smile and turned to rest her head on Alice's shoulder like a small, tired child.

* * *

Bella's cell phone alarm woke me up at seven. I rolled to my side on the couch and pulled the blanket over my head. I hadn't gotten to sleep until well after five, and less than two hours of sleep was not enough, even for me.

I heard her padding into the kitchen, no doubt in search of coffee. I pulled the covers off of my face.

"The filters are on top of the coffee pot, and the coffee is in the cabinet next to the refrigerator."

The kitchen noises continued, and soon the scent of Hylander Crème filtered through my senses. I debated drowsily if I should wait until Bella left the kitchen to get myself some when a noise startled me awake.

My eyes flew open and I looked up to see Bella bent down, having just placed a full mug of coffee on the table next to the couch.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She smiled.

I pulled my feet up to make room for her to sit, but she shook her head. "No, thanks. I've got to get going." She nodded at the mug. "Do you still take it black?"

I blinked and followed her eyes to the cup. "Oh. Yes." I nodded, smiled. "Thanks."

She smiled back. "It's the least I can do. I'm so sorry about last night. I can't believe I had that nightmare and woke you both up. I'm so embarrassed." She leaned forward, and her hair fell, obscuring her face.

I noticed that she didn't mention the revelation of Jacob's steroid abuse. "It's nothing, Bella. Don't worry about it. After all, it's what friends do for each other."

She turned to look at me, and I nodded. There was a question in her eyes, and she opened her mouth.

Alice's door opened, and Bella stopped.

I kept my eyes on Bella. "Good morning, Alice."

Alice shuffled towards the kitchen, grumbling. The only words I could pick out were 'fucking good about it." Bella flushed red and looked down at the floor.

I called into the kitchen. "Alice, Bella made coffee for us."

Alice was already on her way back into her room with a mug in her hand. She gave us both the finger before walking through the dining room and shutting her bedroom door.

Bella and I laughed. "I think she's going to forgive you," I said.

She nodded. "I think you're probably right."

"So what's on your agenda for the day?" I asked.

Bella took a sip of her coffee. "I have to go home to pick up my gear, get to the club and teach a class at nine, then go home and do laundry." She wrinkled her nose at the prospect. "Not something I'm looking forward to doing."

"That, I can understand," I said. "Do you want me to drive you to your apartment?"

She shook her head. "That isn't necessary. I'll take a cab home."

I started to argue with her, and thought better of it.

_It's her decision._

"I'm supposed to meet Emmett at eleven-thirty to check out potential space for the new club. Would you like to meet us?"

I saw her brows knit and wondered what she was thinking. She didn't answer.

I rushed to fill the silence. "I thought that you would be the best judge of the type of space you'd need. If the layout isn't going to work for you, then there's no sense is pursuing a meeting with the owner, right?"

Her brow softened; she looked relieved. I could tell that she'd been worried.

_Aren't we past that yet? _I sighed to myself. _Apparently not._

_Well, Cullen, it appears that you have some trust that needs to be rebuilt. You'd better let her do it on her own terms._

Bella nodded. "Sure. Just text me the address, and I'll meet you there."

"Good. Excellent." I thought for a moment. "After the walk-through, I was going to pick up Alice and take her and Emmett to lunch. Want to come?" _I can't believe how much I want her to say yes._

"Sounds good." She turned toward the bedroom and stopped. "I almost forgot; do you mind if I steal some wireless Internet? I need to check my email."

"Sure, that's fine." I hoped she couldn't see the nervous shake of my hand when I reached out to pick up the coffee mug. I took a drink and smiled at her.

"Thanks, Bella."

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: **** Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's. This bastard Jacob that you are going to hate? Oh, he is all mine.**

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**Chapter 31**

I showered and dressed for my meeting with Emmett, then spent some time on the phone with a few contacts. I knocked on Alice's door at eleven.

"I'm heading to the site. I'm going to take Emmett and Bella to lunch afterwards; do you want us to swing by and pick you up?"

Alice was sitting cross-legged on her unmade bed, typing on her laptop. "Um, yeah. Call me when you're done and I'll be ready to go."

I turned to leave and stopped.

"Hey, do you have Bella's cell number? I need to text her the site address."

Alice held out her hand and I tossed her my phone. She caught it, entered the digits, and tossed it back to me.

"Thanks. See you in a bit."

* * *

I pulled the Mercedes into the parking lot of the club site, which was a little over three blocks east of Core Fitness. A dark blue Jeep sat in a parking space close to the doors as its owner paced the sidewalk next to the building.

I pulled up beside the Jeep and cut off the engine, smiling at the words that made their way through my windows.

"…better tell that motherfucker that if he isn't finished, I'm cutting his payment. I could have had the whole damn bathroom roughed in myself four days ago if I'd known he was going to pull this shit…."

I checked my BlackBerry, but Bella hadn't replied to my message yet. I'd sent her a text with the address before I left the apartment. I checked my watch; she was probably at the club, still getting ready. She'd call when she was on her way.

I slammed the car door and listened to the end of the tirade.

"…holds up the inspection, I will hunt him down and kick his ass so hard he'll end up gay. And you can tell him I said that."

The hulk of a man snapped his phone shut and turned to face me. His eyes, dark with anger just a moment ago, split into a wide, happy grin. He covered the ten feet between us in two strides and grabbed me in a suffocating hug.

"So good to see you, brother!" I suppressed a groan at the loss of oxygen and creaking of my bones.

He gave me an extra squeeze for good measure and put me down. I straightened myself and smiled, clapping him on the back.

"Good to see you, too, Emmett."

"How have you been?"

"I've been well. Can't complain since I'm a free man, out walking around in broad daylight."

His laugh was genuine, jovial. "You are the only dude I know who gets out of jail after four months for bribing a councilman, and within a week he's back at work, doing business, like nothing happened."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well, not exactly. I've got a lot of sins to atone for, if you know what I mean."

Emmett nodded.

I met his eyes. "I'm really sorry, man. About everything; the business, Rosalie, _everything_."

He kept nodding. I kept talking.

"I never meant for everything to go down the way it did. Rosalie approached me,

"It's better this way, Edward. _Really_. Don't get me wrong; I was really pissed at you for a long time. But I realized—" his voice faltered a bit, and he took a deep breath, "—Rose would have done something like this eventually. It was her way, her style. If it wasn't this, it would have been something or someone else." He stopped for a moment, and his voice was quieter. "She really tore me up, man. _Really_. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with that woman. And now…"

He shook his head and sighed.

* * *

Bella hadn't called by the time the building owner showed up, so we started the walkthrough. Emmett pointed out where drywall work would need to be done, and walked off the area that would be suitable as studio space. He checked the floors for stability, discussed the prior tenant's maintenance responsibilities with the owner, and made extensive notes on his clipboard.

I tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on the details of the walkthrough, but my mind kept flipping back to Bella. _Where was she? Had she thought I was setting her up for a one-on-one meeting and bailed? Did she think I wasn't respecting her space as she had asked?_

I texted Alice to see if she'd heard from Bella, and she replied that she hadn't, and that she was hungry and to hurry up. I smiled. Leave it to Alice to put things into perspective.

* * *

"So, what's the deal with Bella popping back up in your life?" Emmett asked, in his usual, not-so-subtle manner.

We'd picked Alice up after leaving the site and headed to a restaurant on Ventura that Emmett had chosen. I was a little concerned that Bella hadn't called, but I had to give her the space she needed.

I straightened my napkin and shrugged. "She's the contact on the new club venture. She's been working as a strippercise instructor for a while now, and it's very lucrative."

I tried to ignore the grin on Emmett's face, but it was impossible. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, brother. Nothing at all."

I decided it was time to change the subject. "She's been dating the club owner's son, and he's turning out to be an asshole."

Emmett raised his eyebrows. "Really? How so?"

"Your garden-variety, roid-raging asshole." Alice stirred her iced tea. "He's Mr. Bodybuilder, thinks that he knows everything there is to know about health and fitness, but has no license or certification for dispensing advice." She shook her head.

I nodded. "One of his friends is most likely his supplier; he was busted for possession of HGH six years ago. Bella saw Jacob using at the club the other day."

Emmett let out a low whistle. "Man, that shit is not something to be trifled with. I've seen dudes go nutso on that stuff." He gestured at Alice with a breadstick. "Ever seen that YouTube video of that deadlifter? He gets all pissed and headbutts the rack." He let loose with a maniacal giggle and shook his head. "That shit is serious business."

I let out a breath. "We don't know how long he's been using, but he's definitely under stress and lashing out. Considering some of the things he's said to Bella, I'm more than a little concerned for her safety."

I checked my BlackBerry for the fifth time in as many minutes. "I have no idea why she hasn't called."

Alice pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. "Hi, I'm wondering if there was a Pole Position class this morning? I think I mixed up my dates on my calendar." She frowned. "Who was supposed to teach?" Her eyes flew to mine. "And she never showed up?"

I pushed away from the table and was walking toward the door before Alice ended the call.

"Emmett, I need a favor from you," I said as I unlocked the Mercedes.

"Name it, brother."

* * *

Bella's apartment was less than ten minutes away, but it felt like an eternity. We pulled into the lot, and Alice pointed. I nodded when I saw Bella's truck, parked in its usual space. Alice called Bella's cell again, but there was no answer.

The parking lot was mostly empty, since the majority of Bella's neighbors worked during the day. I put the Mercedes in park and got out, walking toward the back entrance. I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and extracted my driver's license, sliding it down between the lock and the doorjamb. It clicked on the second try and I was on my way up the stairs before Alice made it to the back door.

Once on the third floor landing, I waited for Alice to catch up. She gave me a bitter look, but I ignored her.

My phone rang.

"What did you find, Emmett?"

"Nothing, brother. His house is closed up, no workers, no Hummer."

"OK, thanks. Stand by."

I hung up and turned to face Alice. "Emmett says Jake isn't at his house."

Alice nodded, her face grave.

I tried the doorknob at Bella's apartment; it was unlocked. I opened the door as quietly as possible and we moved inside

Her apartment appeared to be in the same condition as it was last night. Her work bag sat on her futon, and her car keys sat on the table next to the door. I heard a buzzing, and made my way toward the kitchen; her phone sat on the counter, with several missed calls and messages. Next to it sat a long-handled butcher knife.

_Was this the knife Jacob had held to her throat the night before?_

"What do we do?" Alice's eyes were large.

"Call the police." She nodded and pulled out her phone.

I pushed away the fear that started eating at the pit of my stomach and walked through the apartment. Bella hadn't taken her cell phone, her purse or keys. A quick glance in the bathroom revealed that she hadn't taken a toothbrush or toiletries with her. I checked her closet; her old black backpack and a large, brown, hard-side suitcase sat on the shelf. I figured her laptop briefcase was at our apartment where she'd left it this morning.

When I walked into the hallway, I heard Alice's raised voice.

"…but something's happened to her, I just know it!" She shook her head and snapped her phone off.

"Damn assholes. They said that she's an adult, and if there's no reason to suspect foul play, then they won't dispatch anyone to take a report."

I furrowed my brow. "Who did you call?"

She scrolled through her contacts. "L.A.P.D. Missing Person's Department."

I nodded. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Just… trust me. Go stand in the hallway. Shut the door and knock if you see anyone coming."

With Alice out of the apartment, I turned and surveyed the room. I grabbed a knife out of the kitchen drawer and slashed at the cover of Bella's futon. I turned over a lamp and broke a glass on the kitchen's white tile floor. I pulled some of her clothes out of the closet and threw them in a pile on the bed. I pushed her toiletries into the bathroom sink and rumpled the bath mat.

I returned to the living room and surveyed the damage; it seemed fairly minor.

I opened the door to Alice's questioning face. "How does it look?"

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "OK, I guess. It just looks like she was in a hurry to leave…"

An idea began to take shape.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a towel, wrapping it carefully around the top part of the butcher knife I found on the counter.

I rolled up my sleeve as high as it would go. "Alice?" I called. "Can you check to see if there are any large Band-Aids or gauze in the bathroom?"

"Sure, why?" She called as she moved toward the bathroom.

I checked my arm, choosing my positioning carefully. I hissed at the pain as I brought the blade down on the top of my arm.

"Jesus, Edward? What the hell are you doing?" Alice gasped.

The blood on my arm was seeping at the cut, and I smeared it on the refrigerator door and on the countertop. I squeezed at the opening to encourage more blood, and ran the flat side of the blade against the wound, making certain that there was a substantial amount on the knife. Then I let it drop to the kitchen floor.

"Here." I handed Alice the kitchen towel. "Fold this and put it back in that drawer."

When she was finished, I held out my hand. "Band Aid?"

She removed the plastic from a large bandage and placed it on my arm. I winced a bit at the pain.

"Thanks," I said. She turned to throw the packaging remnants into the garbage.

"No. Put them in your purse," I said.

Alice gave me one of her "Whatever you say, psycho" looks, but she put the bandage remnants into her purse.

I rolled down my sleeve and gave the room another once-over. "Come on," I said.

I grabbed Bella's keys from the counter and locked both the doorknob and the deadbolt. I told Alice to stand back and crossed the hall. I stopped, took a deep breath, and ran at the door, smashing into it.

The doorjamb creaked, but didn't give way. I ran at the door again, and this time heard a splintering sound.

_Third time's the charm_, I thought.

At the last hit, the jamb shattered and the lock gave way, the momentum carrying me into the apartment. I scrambled up and put Bella's keys on the counter exactly where they had been minutes before.

"Now," I said to Alice, "Call 9-1-1-. Tell them that your friend didn't show up for your lunch date, you came over to her apartment to see if she was OK, and you found this. Be hysterical, tell them there's blood. They'll send someone over right away."

Alice nodded and dialed.

My phone rang; a number I didn't recognize, with an 818 area code.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "Edward Cullen."

Static. Then, a whisper.

"Edward?"

"Bella? Is that you?"

Alice looked at me, about to ask a question. I held up my hand to quiet her and turned away.

"Bella, where are you. I will come get you."

There was more static, and then I heard her whisper again.

"Edward, oh my God, it's Jacob. He's taking me to Mexico. We're almost there, and I—"

The sound cut out, there was more static, and the display on my phone read CALL LOST.

I stared for a moment, unbelieving. I felt as if I had been punched straight in the gut. I had promised her that I would keep her safe, that I wouldn't let Jacob hurt her… and now? He had kidnapped her, and was taking her to Mexico?

Alice had just hung up with the dispatcher. "The police are on their way. What's going on?" she asked.

I punched Emmett's phone number, hit SEND, and started walking backwards down the hall.

"Alice, I can't be here. I have to go."

"What?" her face was incredulous.

I shook my head. "I'm an ex-con, Alice. I'm on probation. I'm at my former girlfriend's apartment, and she's been kidnapped. How do you think that looks?"

Alice's eyes widened. "Are—are you serious?"

I nodded. "That was Bella. Jacob has her, and he's taking her to Mexico. She said they're almost there."

"But that means—"

"Emmett, I need you to pick me up. I'll be walking north on Lennox, towards the library." I looked at Alice. "Meet us back at the apartment as soon as you can."

I took the stairs two at a time, straightened my shirt, and started toward Lennox, as the sound of sirens pierced the California afternoon.

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	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Thanks to AzureEyedI, Queen of the Betas. Mr. O'Connor rocks, yet again, for his professional assistance. Special Treatment is forthcoming.**

**Readers, reviewers... you rock. Thanks for helping me keep this story alive. I heart you all so fucking much.  
**

**Chapter 32**

"What's the situation?"

Emmett and I were racing west along Ventura, headed back to the apartment.

I couldn't answer him.

Thoughts crashed through my brain in great waves, the undertow of fear sucking at my terse grip on logic. _Where was she? What was he doing to her? Was he acting alone? Was he in a rage, or just reacting out of fear of what he'd done last night?_

I took a deep breath and forced the fear out of my mind. _Get it together, Cullen._

I related the whole story to Emmett, explained what had happened the night before in full detail, and told him how we'd staged her apartment so that the police would take the situation seriously. I summed up the phone call from Bella and told him that I believed Jacob was trying to take Bella out of the country.

Emmett let out a low whistle. "That's some seriously fucked up shit, brother."

I nodded. "You have no idea."

My mind reversed to the car the night before, how I had comforted her, promised her that she was OK, that she was safe. _How could I have allowed this to happen?_

"Whoa, brother. This is not your fault." It was a moment before I realized that I'd spoken this last out loud.

"Didn't you tell her _not_ to go back to the apartment? Didn't you offer to drive her home this morning? Didn't you tell her to press charges against that fucker _last night_, and she refused to do it?" Emmett shook his big head. "From where I sit, the blame lies squarely on Bella's shoulders, man."

"But…I promised her. _I promised her!_ I swore that I'd keep her safe." I closed my eyes, but the visions of what could be happening to Bella right now crowded behind my eyelids, each worst than the last. I opened my eyes again, blinking, trying to clear my mind.

Emmett punched me in the shoulder. "Dude. You can't force her. It was her choice. She made the call, and it was the wrong one."

I rubbed my arm ruefully. "Obviously."

"Yeah, _obviously._ But it was her call to make." He shifted in his seat. "Do you know what would have happened if the police had shown up last night? If one of the neighbors had called?"

I waited.

"They would have separated them, checked them out to make sure that neither of them were injured, warned them, and told Jacob Black to get the fuck out since he didn't live there. _That's it!_ No history of domestic violence or any previous calls to that address, and she doesn't want to press charges… there really isn't anything they _can_ do. As long as he wasn't tuning her up, they would have issued a warning. It's possible that she'd have been in exactly the same place this morning, if not worse."

He rested his palm on my shoulder. "It's not your fault, brother."

I nodded and took a deep breath. _The knowing didn't make it any easier._

My phone rang; it was Alice.

"The building super is here now. He said he got a call from Bella this morning requesting that the locks be changed. He showed up just as the police got here. I explained everything to them, and they want to ask me a few more questions, but I should be leaving in a half an hour or so."

_So, Bella had taken my advice and decided to change her locks? That was something._

"Thanks for the update, Alice. Emmett & I will be at the apartment. Call me when you're on your way."

"Alice out."

I smiled at her use of lingo. _Leave it to Alice to turn this into a mission._

As I ended the call, a thought struck me. I scrolled through my recent calls and noted the number that Bella had called me from.

"I wonder…"

"What?" Emmett looked at me from behind the wheel.

"Nothing… I just…" I furrowed my brow, thinking again. "I wonder if I can do a reverse lookup of this phone number to see who it belongs to?"

I looked at Emmett, but his face was blank. "Don't ask me, man. I'm lucky I can dial a phone half the time."

I called Alice back. "Is there a way to look up the number of the phone that Bella used to call me?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me make a call."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting at the dining room table on a Skype video call with Jasper.

"Thanks, Jasper, for doing this. I never would have had Alice call you if it wasn't absolutely important."

Jasper nodded solemnly. "No problem, Edward. I understand the situation."

I watched Jasper on the laptop, and was surprised by how thin and gaunt he was. He didn't look like he'd eaten a full meal or slept well in weeks.

Jasper moved out of frame and then slid back in. "A basic search shows that number is a cell, in the Pasadena, California area." He turned to face the camera. "Ring any bells?"

I frowned. "No, not really. Do you have any more information on it?"

"Let me try another search." Jasper moved out of frame again, and I heard the tapping of a keyboard.

"Hang on a sec, let me call Alice." I punched her number again.

"Alice, are you still at Bella's apartment?" I leaned back in my chair.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you think you can get a hold of Bella's cell phone to check something?"

"Sure, let me just ask one of these officers."

A second later she was back. "I've got it in my hand. What do you need?"

"Scroll through the contact list and see if you have a cell number for Jacob Black."

"Ummmmm…. Yeah, right here."

Alice read off the number to me and I jotted it down. "Thanks, Alice. Can you bring it with you?"

"Sure. I'll be leaving in less than five minutes."

I looked at the number Alice had given me; it wasn't an exact match for the number that Bella had called me from, but it was close; it was only two digits off.

_Strange._

"OK… a little digging in a database that you don't know I have access to…" Jasper rolled his chair back in front of the webcam.

"Can you check this number, too?" I watched as he grabbed a pen and wrote it down. "Huh. The last digits of the number that called you are 8802 and the digits on the second one you gave me are 8800. That's interesting."

"Certainly doesn't sound coincidental to me. What do you think?"

Jasper shrugged. "Well, usually when phone numbers are sequential, it means that they were purchased in a block. Land lines and cell lines are different. For example, if you call USC University Hospital, every land line phone number starts with the area code 818 and the exchange 442. The last four digits are the extensions so that the caller can reach a specific office or department.

"Both of these phone numbers are cell phones. They were most likely purchased in a block, so the billing will probably trace back to one person." Jasper rolled out of sight again, then back into frame.

He leaned toward the camera, his face filling the screen. "I'm wrong. Both phones come back to one _company_. Black Enterprises."

I sat back in my chair, surprised. _So both Jacob's cell phone and the cell phone Bella had called me from were owned by Billy Black's company?_

"Is it possible to tell how many phones are part of that block?"

Jasper shrugged. "A few minutes of trial and error should tell me."

A thought struck me as I watched Jasper roll out of view again. "Jasper, is there any way to see if there is GPS tracking enabled on any of those phones?"

He stuck his head back into the frame. "Sure. Let me see what I can find."

Jasper rolled into view again. "OK, from what I can tell, it looks like there are six cell phones, all BlackBerry Storm2 9550s, all with sequential numbers, and all registered to Black Enterprises, Inc. Four of them are in regular use; two of them are activated but there is no call history on either of them. They're probably spares."

I nodded.

"All four of the phones have the GPS feature activated. If you want, I can forward you the directional data and you can follow their movements with a tracking program."

Emmett's eyes grew large. "They can _do_ that?"

Jasper laughed. "Yeah, man, they can do anything. There are car rental companies that have governing software in their cars that show whether or not you exceeded the speed limit. The fine print in the rental contracts lets them charge you fees for having a lead foot. Some companies track the data from the GPS devices to determine client driving habits for marketing purposes."

Emmett whistled. "Those slick fuckers."

"One last thing," I said to Jasper. "Can you check to see if there's been any call activity on any of the lines this morning? Like which line called me?"

Jasper tapped a few keys. "Since all the phones are registered to Black Enterprises, I don't know who uses which phone. I can tell you that one of those phones called you this morning… and that same phone made a call to 8800 this morning."

My brain clicked through the data.

"So 8800 is Jacob's number. 8802 called me this morning, and has called Jacob's number in the past."

Jasper nodded. "Yeah. In fact, there are lots of calls between those lines."

"Has there been any activity on any of those phones since the call I received this morning?"

Jasper clicked through a several screens. "Um, just Jacob's line, 8800. Several calls to a single number."

"Can you give it to me?"

As I wrote the number down, I was struck by the sense that it seemed familiar.

"Emmett, can I borrow your phone?"

He handed it to me and I dialed.

After two rings, the phone went into voicemail. A cheery female voice offered a greeting: _"You have reached the desk of Billy Black. Please leave a message and Mr. Black will return your call as soon as possible."_

I ended the call and handed the phone back to Emmett.

"Jasper, I owe you one. Big time. Your next trip home to see Alice is on me."

Jasper grinned, the first smile I'd seen him crack. "You're on, Edward."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Alice banged through the door of the apartment. "Edward!"

"In here." I zipped closed the carry-on bag on my bed

"What in blue hell is going on?"

I related the information that Jasper had found, explaining the link between the cell phone that Bella had used to call me and Jacob's phone.

I dropped the carry-on suitcase next to the front door. "And, it appears that Billy Black is somehow involved in this as well."

Alice blinked. "Are you certain? That's a pretty strong allegation to be making."

I moved into the dining room. "Jasper did some GPS tracking, and it turns out that four of the six cell phones registered to Billy Black are in the exact same location. He also searched the call histories. This morning, right after Bella called me to say that Jacob was taking her to Mexico, Jacob's cell phone called a number. It's a private number that rings to Billy Black's desk."

Alice's jaw dropped. "Oh my God, Edward. That means… well, what are we going to do? Call the police?"

I stopped winding the power cord for my laptop. "Alice, what did the police tell you that they were going to do?"

She wrinkled her brow. "They are going to try to get in touch with Bella's mother to see if she'd called, check with the club, put out her description as a missing person with a possible kidnapping."

"Did you tell them that her father is the chief of police in Forks, Washington?"

Alice nodded.

I held up my hand. "And that's the _best_ they can offer."

"What makes you think that you can do better than the police?"

I pointed towards Emmett, who was sitting on the couch in the living room. "We have him. And we have you," I handed her an accordion file. "And we have a plan."

* * *


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: AzureEyed, how could I do it without you? The answer is: I can't. Thanks for everything, bb.**

**Reviewers! OMG you rock so hard! Believe it or not, through the course of this story, you have made a ginormous difference in this story. You've given me ideas, been forthcoming when something hasn't quite worked right, and kicked me in the ass to continue this story to its true completion. (It appears, at this point, that said completion will be in about four more chapters and Edward's Epilogue.)**

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**vannahdee**

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**Chapter 33**

The elevator doors slid open noiselessly to reveal the eleventh floor of the Damon Building. Alice, Emmett and I walked toward the sound of ringing phones.

The receptionist at Black Enterprises was polished and light, just like the granite top of her reception desk. With a wireless headset perched behind her right ear, she directed calls and responded to questions.

She handled her final call, turned her full attention to me and smiled.

"How may I help you?"

"We're here to see Billy Black." I returned her smile.

"Do you have an appointment?"

Alice moved forward. "It's regarding a property that we're interested in purchasing from Mr. Black."

The receptionist turned her smile on Alice. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No." Being honest and direct was usually the best policy. "But we're very eager to move on this project, and I'm certain Mr. Black would be willing to meet with us, as unorthodox as this might seem." I turned on the smolder and the charm, and thought I detected her thawing, if only slightly.

"Normally, we don't make exceptions…" she tore her eyes away from mine, tucking her hair behind her free ear. "Let me see what I can do." She busied herself dialing an extension.

I caught Alice's eye and read her expression. _Did she just fucking _wink _at you?_

I shrugged slightly. _What can I say, Alice?_

She rolled her eyes.

The receptionist looked up from her phone. "He is in and can see you in a few minutes. Would you like to wait here?" she gestured to two well-appointed leather couches.

I smiled again. "We would love to."

* * *

Twenty minutes later Billy Black's secretary ushered us into a large corner office, large glass windows overlooking hazy downtown L.A. The long, dark-paneled wall on the left was hung with pictures of local and national celebrities; professional basketball coaches and players, actors, directors, politicians.

Billy swiveled in his chair and pointed to his phone before gesturing toward the chairs before his desk. Alice and I sat and Emmett prowled along the glass walls, watching the city below.

"Mr. Cullen, Miss Cullen." Billy finished his call and turned his straight white smile at us. "How can I help you? My assistant informed me that you were here to discuss the sale of the club?" His face showed nothing but mild interest.

I leaned back in my chair. "We're here to discuss the situation with your son, Jacob."

Billy's eyes flickered once, and then stilled. His face was a careful mask of bemusement. "What exactly is it that you want?"

My voice was polite, benign. "It appears that Jacob has taken Bella Swan, one of your employees, out of the country against her will. I want her returned safely."

Billy's eyebrows pulled together. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. As far as I am aware, Jacob and Bella are dating. Perhaps they made a little daytrip to Mexico. There's no crime in that."

"I didn't say that they went to Mexico, I just said that they left the country."

Billy's eyes flashed, but I ignored him. "Bella called me this morning. She said that Jacob was taking her to Mexico and asked me for help. That certainly doesn't sound like a 'little daytrip to Mexico.'" I adjusted my watch and met his eyes again. "Did you know that she called us last night after Jacob showed up at her apartment, drunk, and threatened her with a knife? Did you know that Alice and I had to go get her at one o'clock in the morning because Jacob had passed out on her couch?"

I watched as Billy's cheeks colored slightly underneath his russet complexion. _He did not know those details. _I leaned back in my chair and nodded at Alice.

"Bella didn't show up for her scheduled class this morning, so I went to her apartment to check on her. The door was broken in, there was blood in the kitchen, her purse and cell phone were there, as were all of her toiletries."

"I think it's safe to assume that Jacob didn't whisk her away for the weekend." I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, and failed.

Alice glanced at me before continuing. "I called the police, and they are investigating this as a kidnapping."

Billy blinked, and his stoic face showed a glimpse of anger. _Wasn't expecting that._

"I would imagine that the police will be contacting you to see if you can shed any light on the situation, Mr. Black. I certainly hope that you will cooperate fully with regard to Bella's location. Considering that the phone number she used to contact me has been traced back to your company, and a call was made to your office from Mexico just this morning, it looks highly suspicious. Not to mention that Jacob's fingerprints were found on a knife that had blood on it." I paused, allowed these details to sink in.

"What a shame it would be to see you, your son, and your company dragged into such an ugly situation as a kidnapping. Especially if the media got wind of the drug running, the tax evasion…" I shrugged, _What can you do?_

Billy's eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"

_How interesting that he didn't attempt to refute any of the details. _I leaned forward in my chair and met his gaze. "No, Mr. Black, to the contrary. I am promising you that if a single hair on Bella Swan's head is harmed I will use every power in my considerable arsenal to bring you to your knees. So to speak." I glanced down at his wheelchair and smiled. _Reminding him of his weakness._

Billy hadn't moved. He sat stiffly in his wheelchair, his face unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"What do you want from me?"

"Tell Jacob to give Bella to us, unharmed. Give us a time and a place, and we will meet him."

"And in exchange?"

"No. I'm not finished. I also want you to sell Core Fitness."

Billy's face split into a sardonic grin. "Of course you do, Cullen, never one to overlook an opportunity. I must say, I like your style." He winked at me with a 'takes one to know one' smile.

I shook my head. "No, Mr. Black. Not me. I want you to sell the club to Bella Swan. For one dollar."

His grin widened and he laughed aloud. "Now, why would I do such a foolish thing?"

Alice leaned forward and dropped a sheaf of papers onto Billy's desk. "We have proof that, for the past ten years, you income has not matched your standard of living. You carry a number of mortgages on various properties throughout the greater Los Angeles area, yet all of those properties are held in the names of different individuals. From what I see, you seem to be falsifying mortgage documents in order to lessen your tax burden. The IRS would have a field day playing connect-the-dots with your tax records since you received your settlements fifteen years ago. Not to mention," she pushed several more sheets toward him, "it appears that you have several of the Los Angeles County Supervisors in your pockets."

I folded my hands in my lap. "My, goodness. It sounds like federal racketeering charges would be appropriate in this case as well."

Billy tapped his pen against his desk phone. "That's certainly something you know more than a little about, now isn't it, Mr. Cullen?"

I met his eyes. "Yes. I'd have to say I'm an expert on the subject, to be honest."

He released the brake on his chair and wheeled himself to one of the expansive windows.

I spoke to his back. "Every asset that you own; your company holdings, your home, the homes you bought for your children… all will be stripped away by the State of California in an effort to tie you to illegal drug trafficking. When the U.S. Customs sees how many times in the past year that vehicles registered to Black Enterprises have entered and exited Mexico, it will look very, very bad for you."

Billy sat back and steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

"So, I tell Jacob to bring Bella back, sell her the club, and you forget everything you know about me and my business?"

I nodded.

He wheeled himself back behind his desk and reached for his phone.

"Draw up the papers, and the club is hers, on one condition."

He waited a beat, and a small smile crossed his face.

"You have to go to Mexico and get her."

Alice cut her eyes at me, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. _Violation of my parole._

"We will make the arrangements."

"No," he barked. "I mean, _you_ must go to Mexico and get her, or the deal is off." His smile widened. "Good luck with that Customs business."

* * *

Emmett drove the Mercedes south on the I-5 toward Tijuana. The car was silent as we each contemplated how we were going to handle this situation.

I had sat in the office chair, blood pushing through my veins like molten lava, while Billy spoke to Jacob on the phone. Alice reached over and put her hand over mine, and I realized I had been clenching my fists so hard that my nails were biting into my palms. I took a deep breath and tried to relax while Billy told Jacob that we were coming to get Bella, that he should stay in Mexico and release her only to me, no one else.

Jacob had given him the address of a hotel just outside of Tijuana, and after a quick phone call to Jasper confirming the GPS tracking on the phones indicated the same location, we were on our way now.

"What are the potential consequences if you're caught crossing the border?" Alice leaned forward between the seats.

I caught glimpses of San Diego Bay between buildings and billboards as we flew south. "My probation is informal, so I don't meet with a parole officer, although I do have to check in periodically via phone. I didn't have to surrender my passport, which is fortunate. Jasper checked, and I'm not on any 'watch lists' so they shouldn't even question me. If I do get caught, however, any number of things could happen; I might get my parole extended, or I might have to go back to prison to finish out my sentence. It just depends."

Alice didn't say anything, but I could imagine her thoughts.

I tried to contain them, but my own doubts swirled in my mind.

_Was it worth it? Why shouldn't I just contact the police now that we know where Jacob is and let them handle it? Could I stand spending another fourteen months behind bars, even in a minimum security place like Taft Camp?_

In my heart, I realized that the answer was no. As much as I detested the thought of spending another second behind bars, I knew that there was no way that I could trust anyone else to get Bella. I would do whatever it took, by any means necessary, to help her, to find her, to get her home safe.

Alice piped up from the back seat. "And here, I thought we wouldn't have any crazy weekends in Tijuana."

"Normally when I'm on my way to Tijuana, I'm in a much better mood, bro." Emmett chimed in. I laughed; it was the first thing he'd said in almost an hour. He hadn't spoken a word while we were in Billy Black's office, and I knew it took all of the self-control he had to keep his mouth shut. I was proud of him.

"So, Emmett, what do you think we should do?"

Emmett tilted his head in thought. "I guess it depends on your style. You can go in with guns blazing, or you can do a surgical extraction. I don't really know what's best in this situation, since I don't know anything about where they're at."

"We never go into any situation unprepared; let's remedy that. Plus, I have an idea for a little added insurance."

* * *

An hour later we were on the road again, having stopped for coffee and wifi on the outskirts of Chula Vista. Although it was almost dinnertime, I wasn't particularly hungry. While Emmett ate, Alice and I Skyped with Jasper again and then I made a few phone calls.

"Do you feel better now about our chances, Emmett?" I asked as he merged back onto the 5 going south.

Emmett shrugged. "I don't know if I'd say that I feel better, but I certainly feel like we have more of an advantage."

I nodded and turned my attention to the sun as it began to dip down over the southern portion of the San Diego Bay. "I guess we can't hope for any more than that."

* * *

Despite my initial concerns, there were no issues crossing into Mexico. The traffic heading north towards the United States was unbelievable; the backup stretched for five miles.

Emmett laughed. "They don't care who comes into Mexico, but the U.S. sure checks everyone coming back into the States, don't they?"

Alice snorted. "Yeah, unless you're carrying knitting needles." She shook her head in irritation.

Emmett looked at me and I shook my head and mouthed a warning: _Don't ask._

"Everyone knows you can carry knitting needles on airplanes. Everyone! I've never had any problem anyplace I've ever flown, with the exception of Mexico. You'd think that the security officials would know what can and cannot be taken onto an airplane."

Emmett cut his eyes at me and I leaned over to whisper: "She had knitting needles confiscated on her last trip to Cozumel."

"Goddamn security officials stole my Addi Turbos and my Hiya Hiyas. I hope his wife likes knitting with them, the thieving motherfucker."

Alice continued to brood while we headed West on the Via Internacional, past dilapidated buildings and boarded-up shops with graffiti scrawled on dusty corrugated metal doors. The Mercedes was out of place among the old Chevy vans and rusty Dodge two-doors that lined the streets. As the fiery sun dipped at last into the Pacific Ocean, we turned onto the Parque Azteca Norte and looked for the address we'd been given.

The Garaje la Chingada was a decrepit motel south of the main tourist district. It had been built in the 1960s when Puerto Vallarta and Acapulco were the big destinations of wealthy Americans. In an attempt to cash in on the interest, small resorts popped up along the western coast of Mexico. In the 1970s, when Mexico was eclipsed by the Eastern Caribbean as the new tourist location, the area saw a downturn in tourism. Now it was a destination for college students, spring breakers and San Diegoans looking for an 'all hell breaks loose' weekend on the Avenida Revolución.

The parking lot was more dust than gravel, iron bars covering the windows of the small manager's office. "Room number 5." Alice's reminder was wholly unnecessary, as Jake's large yellow Hummer sitting in the parking lot shone like a beacon.

"We know he isn't alone. Stay alert." Emmett nodded at me as we made our way toward the motel room door.

* * *

**A/N: **"Garaje la Chingada" loosely translates to either 'fucking hotel' or 'bitch garage,' depending on whose Wiki-fu you trust.

I know, I know; what the hell is happening?! I feel your pain, and I will post the next chapter early, probably either next Wednesday or Thursday. It will be worth the wait, I promise, as the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan.

Hit the button & review. Come on, you know you want to...


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: OK, no one is going to read what I write here. See you at the bottom…**

**Chapter 34**

I watched Emmett in the yellow light of the motel's overhang. He nodded at me as we moved into position beside the door of room number 5, and I notice as he brushed his fingers along his right jeans pocket. He met my eyes and nodded again, and I knocked.

"Jacob. It's Edward Cullen."

The noise from the television muted, and I heard footsteps crossing the room. Instinctively Emmett and I both moved back from the door.

The door opened an inch, and I saw that the swing latch was engaged. The face in the opening was unfamiliar, boyish.

"Move it, Embry." Jacob Black's voice came from inside as a door closed. Behind the curtains the light in the next room was switched off. I met Emmett's eyes and nodded. _They have two rooms._

Embry backed up, and Jacob moved to stand in the door opening.

"You alone?"

"No. Emmett and Alice are with me. Emmett's here, Alice is in the car." I motioned towards the Mercedes, and Jacob craned to the side in an effort to see Emmett. Emmett obliged and moved into his sight line.

"You were supposed to come alone, Cullen."

"No, your father only said that I needed to come and get her. And here I am."

In the half light, Jacob's expression was odd; his face, strained. I didn't like his eyes.

He closed the door and I heard the swing bolt unlatch before the door swung open wide, slamming hard against the wall. I heard a muffled scream, and my heart leapt to my throat.

"Bella!" I yelled her name and took a step into the room. Large hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me back.

"No, brother, not yet, not yet, not yet…" Emmett's voice was controlled, his movements fluid. I trusted his instincts, felt him move in close on my right.

Emmett stopped in the doorway, turned sideways, surveyed the room. He moved in slowly and I followed, sweeping the room with my eyes.

Two men sat to the left, flanking a small table covered with fast food wrappers, beer bottles and papers. A third man, the one Jacob had called Embry, was sitting on one of the two rumpled beds, watching the muted television.

Jacob stood in front of the nearest bed, laughing. "Hey Sam, does it looks like Cullen is afraid?"

The tall, muscular, dark-haired man to whom Jacob had spoken laughed. "Looks like he's about ready to piss his pants in fear, J." He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, the butt of a handgun stuck in the front of his waistband.

I took a deep breath and let all of the anger within me burn in my eyes. "Where's Bella?"

Jacob flopped down on the bed and turned toward the television, not answering.

I moved into the room before Emmett could stop me, pulled at the partition door between the adjoining rooms.

The door into the next room was wide open, and my eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. The room was the mirror of this one; television to the left and beds on the far wall. In the dimness I made out a shape lying on the bed, and I did my best to calm myself as I moved toward the bed.

I reached out a hand and touched her, felt her flinch away and heard the breath catch in her throat.

"It's me, Bella. It's Edward," I murmured, and I heard her muffled sob. I reached toward the pillow, touched her hair, moved my hands down to her face, felt the gag. Anger pulsed through me as I grasped her hands and felt the rope around her wrists.

_Goddamned animals. Why would they do this to her?_

I worked on her bonds and talked to her, told her we were leaving and that I had good news for her, that we'd talk about it in the car. I knew I was babbling, but I needed to keep her from getting hysterical.

"Emmett," I called. "Let's go." I gave up on the knots, picked Bella up and prepared to carry her out of the room as Emmett backed through the doorway. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he crossed to the door and turned the doorknob.

"Shit," he muttered. "It's jammed." He moved back toward the partition door, but the door was blocked by Jacob and Sam.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Jacob moved aside and Sam filled the doorway. His arm was extended, and I saw silvery reflection of the barrel of a gun pointing directly at my head.

Bella screamed behind her gag, and I felt her body begin to shake. My brain went into overdrive, trying to figure out how to free Bella and make a run for it. Our only escape was blocked, and we were certainly out-manned.

"Whoa, Easy there, Jacob. You do not want to do this."

"Oh, really? Well, why don't you tell me just what the _fuck_ I am supposed to do now that my father is handing my club over to that lying, cheating whore?" He screamed, and his rage was palpable. Embry and the other man, whom I assumed was Quil, moved to stand behind Jacob and Sam.

"Whoa, man, take it easy—"

"Shut the fuck _up_, Embry!" Jacob turned to face him, face ablaze. Embry backed up a few steps, and I saw raw fear on his face.

_Jacob was losing it._

"Do you really think I'm just going to stand by while this bitch takes away the only thing that means anything to me? Do you think I'm going to let you push my father around, threaten to destroy his business?" He jerked the gun with each word.

I lowered Bella onto the bed next to me, my brain working overtime. _Lie to him._ "It was a ploy, Jacob. We don't want the club, we don't care about the drugs. We just want Bella. We just want to take her home. No one is going to involve the police, and no one is going to take anything away from you. We wanted your father to take us seriously, and so we lied to him. We don't have any concrete evidence." I tore my eyes away from the gaping mouth of the gun, forced myself to meet Jacob's eyes. "Let her leave, and you'll have nothing to worry about."

Jacob laughed. "Cullen, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. You think this is about the _club_?" He laughed again, and a chill trickled down my spine.

"This has nothing to do with the stupid fucking health club. It's about the business. You're competition; for us; you're a threat. You're moving in on our territory, and it seems that you _do_ know what's going on. Entirely too much, in fact." He smiled, and the lifeless look of his eyes instilled a fear in me that I've never felt in my entire life.

"This isn't a rescue; it's an ambush." My voice was dead, expressionless. I dared not turn to look at Emmett, who had inched his way toward the heavy table to the right of the door. I needed to keep Jacob distracted so he wouldn't see.

"Whose idea was it; yours or your father's?"

Jacob smiled proudly. "Mine, of course. It didn't start out this way, though. Initially, we just wanted to get you to come down here to retrieve little Bella here, beat the shit out of you, and convince you to stay the fuck away from our businesses. But when good ol' Billy told me what you found out about his business dealings, and about the steroids, we realized that you knew a little too much… and you have to be eliminated."

Jacob moved farther into the room, flanked by Sam and Quil. Embry stood in the doorway behind them, and I watched as his eyes darted between the barrel of the silver Smith & Wesson and Jacob's rage-contorted face.

"Jake… man, we don't need to do this…" his whisper was pleading; the boy who'd gotten in way over his head.

"Shut the fuck _up_, Embry! You knew what was going down, and you said you were in. Too late to back out now." Jacob turned the heat of his anger on Embry, and he cowered behind the others, his eyes meeting mine in a fleeting apology.

"And her!" Jacob pointed the gun towards Bella. "She brought you into this. If she'd never gotten you involved, none of this would be happening. Goddammit, Bella! I thought we had something!"

Bella shrank back, and I maneuvered my body in front of her. "Jacob, that's not true. _We_ sought _her_ out. We were… friends… when she lived up north. She worked for me before I went to prison, and she and Alice are friends. We just wanted to buy the health club; that's all. And now, I don't even care about that."

Sam withdrew his handgun from his waistband and pointed it lazily in my direction. He leaned back against the doorjamb and shook his head. "I told you that she wasn't worth it, J. And now we're gonna have a big-assed mess to clean up here." He shook his head, as if he was talking about a broken glass. "If you'd stop thinking with your dick for once—"

Jacob wheeled to face Sam, his face red. "Who the fuck are _you_, huh? Do you have any idea what's at stake here? Do you think that I care about whether or not I get a piece of ass? I can get any piece of ass that I want, you fucking _ass_hole!"

Sam dropped his arms and his calm, detached demeanor changed when he saw Jacob level the gun at his chest. He backed into the doorway, gun held out to the side. "Relax, man. I'm just sayin'."

"Well, stop fucking 'just sayin', Sam. I'm tired of your bullshit." Jacob turned to face us again, but I was already on the floor; I caught a movement outside the window and took advantage of Jacob's distraction to pull Bella down beside me.

A shot pierced my eardrums, followed by a scream.

In my mind, the movements were protracted, disjointed. I felt Bella against me, felt the breath leave her as she hit the floor. I pushed her against the base of the bed and blocked her with my body. I saw Emmett dive behind the large table in the corner, saw his hand reach for his Glock, saw him draw his gun. My brain tried to make the connection, but failed.

The silver of Jacob's gun flashed in the dim light. Jacob screamed, the gun fell from his hand, and he grabbed at his arm.

The gunfire stopped; the screaming was louder, different; I looked cautiously around the end of the bed.

Sam Uley lay on the floor, his legs at an odd angle, thrust through the doorway in this room, while his arms were splayed overhead in the next room. Quil kneeled next to him, shaking his arm and screaming.

"Come on, man! Come on! Get up! Let's go, we gotta go now!"

The lights flicked on in the room, and I was momentarily blinded. I closed my eyes to acclimate, and when I opened them, I looked down into Bella's terror-stricken eyes. The air tasted metallic; the coppery smell of blood flooded my senses and I tried frantically to check her for wounds.

"Are you OK? Are you OK, Bella?" She couldn't answer around the gag in her mouth, and shook her head. My heart skipped a beat, and she blinked and nodded.

I looked up to see Emmett covering Jacob, who was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, holding his hand and cursing, blood on his hand and on his right shoulder.

I worked Bella's gag down off her mouth and asked her again if she was alright.

Her voice was hoarse with fear. "Yes, I think I'm OK." I worked to free her from the ropes on her wrist, then started on her ankles. "It's OK, Edward, I can get it."

"You got them, Em?"

"Yeah, bro." He nodded and moved to hand me Jacob's gun. "Who's in there?" he called towards the other room.

Embry backed into our room, hands raised, stepping over Sam and Quil.

Quil stood and backed into the room as well, tears streaming down his face. "She shot him. Oh my God, he's dead!" He cast his eyes down onto the prone figure on the floor.

I pointed Jacob's gun at the back of Quil's head as he backed into the room, arms raised. Alice moved into the doorway, weapon pulled in toward her chest, leveled squarely at Quil. With her eyes on both men, she bent to check the pulse in Sam's neck.

"He's alive." She backed away from Sam and leveled her gun at Embry. "Call the front desk; tell them there's a man who's been shot in this room." Alice never took her eyes off Quil or Embry, and spoke to Emmett.

"You got them?"

"Yeah," Emmett and I answered in unison.

She moved back out of the doorway and a second later was at the door to our room. I covered Embry and moved to the door, jerking it open. She pointed her gun down toward the ground and backed away.

"Can she walk?" she nodded toward Bella.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Bella croaked. She stood and I held out my left hand to her, grasping her, pulling her toward the door. I pushed her toward Alice, who ushered her into the car. Emmett covered us with his body, and when I was sure Bella was safe, I moved back into the room to stand beside him.

Jacob looked up at me, his fury tangible. I met his gaze with steely eyes. "There's nothing stopping me from putting a bullet in your head right now. For two grand, I could pay off a policia to look the other way while I skullfuck you and then spatter your brains across the wall."

He didn't speak, just sat wordlessly and stared hatred into me. I lowered my voice. "I think I might like to feel your life running through my fingers." His eyes flickered in recognition of the same words he'd spoken to Bella just a day ago.

I stood. "And you might want to invest in some basic firearms training. Learn how to avoid Glock thumb." I winked at him and backed out of the room.

Emmett followed, covering us until we made it to the car. He jumped into the drivers' side and I covered us while he started the car.

"Wait!" Alice called; I caught a glance of her texting furiously in the back seat.

"No can do, babe," Emmett said. He fishtailed out of the parking lot, throwing gravel and dust high into the air as we careened out of sight.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Special thanks to Mr. O'Connor for his knowledge. And AzureEyed for her mad beta skillz. **

**Princesspewo: **I used Google Translator to put together a few curse words for the hotel. *shrugs* I'm a dork, what can I say?

**chach2990: **Mwah just for being awesome

**carebear309**: They aren't out of the woods yet….

**FiorellaM: **She wouldn't waste the needle. He's not worth it.

**PrimroseHil: **Feel better yet that the cliffie is over?

Thanks everyone for pushing that button. It keeps me going! *Looks into mah crystal ball* Hmmm, it seems that there are lemons in the future… it's a little fuzzy, though… *shakes head* you'll have to check the next chapter to see what happens…


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns these characters. I simply bend them to suit my perverse needs.

**Chapter 35**

The inside of the car was silent as we sped up the Parque Azteca Norte and turned off on to a side street. None of the police cars that had blown by us, sirens wailing, had even slowed down to look in our direction. I glanced at Emmett, his forehead slick with sweat.

"Are you alright, Emmett?"

He nodded, handy on the wheel, eyes on the road. "I shot a dude, made it out alive, and didn't piss my pants. Never better, bro."

I laughed and felt the post-adrenaline rush shaking my hands and heart.

"Response time for the _Policia del Tijuana_ isn't half bad, considering. I think they'll be happy with what they find." Alice tossed her phone onto the seat between her and Bella and pulled the gun out of her waistband.

Bella gasped in surprise, and Alice looked at her, eyebrows raised. "What?"

Bella shook her head and blinked. "I – I just didn't realize…"

Alice ejected the magazine and jacked the slide six times. "You didn't know I carry?" She shrugged. "I guess not, since it never came up in conversation, huh?" She smiled at Bella and reloaded the two bullets missing from the magazine, which were now lodged in Sam Uley's abdomen.

Emmett looked at Alice in the rearview. "Damn, girl, you've got some mad skills!"

Alice smiled coyly. "Finely honed skills. It's been a while since I've shot close-quarters combat. I'm glad my training kicked in."

Bella frowned. "Is that why you were holding it so close to your chest when you walked into the room?"

Alice nodded. "That's called close-quarters stance. When you have a bunch of people in a tight space, the risk of having your gun taken from you increases. So you carry it held close to your chest, then extend your hands when you need to fire, like this." Alice pushed her hands straight out in front of her and aimed an imaginary gun through the windshield, made a low _pop-pop _sound, and jerked her hands back toward her chest.

Bella shook her head. "Wow, Alice. You are well and truly awesome."

I turned in my seat to watch the two women in the back. "Alice, how did you know when to come in?"

She shrugged. "While you were waiting at the door, I checked out the Hummer and found this," she struggled to lift the duffel bag next to her on the back seat and passed it to me. Alice continued as I stuffed the duffel into the larger bag on the seat next to me. "After you went inside, I went to the other motel room door and noticed the shim wedged above it, but I couldn't get it out without drawing attention to myself. So I waited outside the window and listened as much as I could. When I realized Jacob had a gun, I decided it was time to go in. I stood in the doorway and waited until the big goofy one backed into the room. I saw his gun and fired. I knew Emmett was armed, so I figured he could take care of things inside."

Emmett nodded. "Good thing, too. I got two shots off, and I think one of them hit Jacob in the arm. Plus he can't shoot for shit; looks like he tore up his thumb pretty good when the slide got him. He won't be lifting weights anytime soon."

Alice laughed. "Did you see that gun? Like he has any business handling a Chief's Special."

Bella let out a shaky breath and turned to Alice. "Well, at least you didn't kill the guy."

Alice met Bella's gaze and shook her head. "Oh, no. He was dead when he hit the floor. I didn't want to freak them all out and cause a rampage, so I had to tell them that he was still alive."

Bella's eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. Alice frowned at her. "What did you want me to do, Bella? Jacob and Sam had guns pointed at all of you and Jacob expressed every intention of harming you. Should I have just walked in there and said, 'Oh please, boys, can you just let my friends go? 'Kay thanks bye.'" Alice rechecked the magazine and put her gun back into its holster.

"Thank you yet again for saving our asses, Alice. I owe you big time."

Alice replaced her gun in its holster and leaned forward, punching me in the arm. "You can send me on a cruise or something to thank me."

I hissed in pain, and her questioning face changed to one of recognition.

"Oh my God, Edward, I'm so sorry, I forgot about your arm…"

Bella's voice was sharp. "What? What is it? What happened to him? What happened to you?" Her eyes swung between Alice and me like a pendulum. I shook my head, prepared to say 'it's nothing,' when Alice piped up.

"Edward had to stage a crime scene in your apartment, and he cut himself with a knife and bled all over your kitchen in order to get the police to take it seriously."

Bella's eyes were large. "Is this true?"

I rubbed my arm and shrugged. "They wouldn't have taken the report unless it appeared that you were taken under duress."

Her voice was quiet. "You did that for me?"

"Alice helped. I couldn't have done it without Alice."

"Damn skippy you couldn't have." Alice turned to Bella. "You're going to have to buy a new futon cover, since he got knife-happy and slashed yours up."

I smiled at Alice's rejoinder, and as my eyes fell again on Bella, my humor fell away. I watched her as she stared out of her window into the dark, arms wrapped around herself protectively.

_What had she endured over the past 24 hours? _

I turned back around in my seat and faced out of the windshield.

"Hey. Are we still proceeding as planned?" Emmett asked.

I nodded and closed my eyes as he turned the Mercedes east, leaving the sand and sea, the sirens and bloodshed behind us.

* * *

After giving them some last-minute instructions, Emmett and Alice dropped us at the entrance of the Fiesta Inn Tijuana Rio, a medium-sized hotel five minutes away from the Tijuana International Airport. It was late and the reception area was quiet, save the sounds of a late night talk show the attendant was watching on a tiny television set. I motioned to Bella to sit down in one of the chairs near the door and made my way to the front desk.

The attendant was a dark-haired, heavy-set Mexican woman who did not look thrilled to have her program interrupted. I flashed her a bright smile. _"Tienes algún puesto vacante?"_

When she nodded, I felt relief to find that they had rooms available.

I pulled a money clip out of my pocket and displayed the bills. _"Cuánto?"_

Her eyes never left the money in my hand. _"__Setenta y cinco dólares por noche."_

I nodded thoughtfully. I peeled off seventy-five dollars and pushed them across the desk to her. She slid a clipboard toward me. _"__Por favor, rellene esto."_

I peeled off an additional fifty and placed it on top of the clipboard. _"Esto cubrirá?"_

Her eyes grew large, and she withdrew the clipboard with the fifty on top. "_Si, Senor. No hay problema."_

She handed me a keycard with the number 242 scribbled on the small folder. I smiled and said thank you, but she just nodded as the face of President Grant disappeared into her ample bosom.

I collected Bella and the duffel bag and we walked towards the elevator.

She leaned toward me and whispered, "What was that all about?"

I shook my head, waited until we were ensconced in the elevator and the doors were closed.

"I can't have any record that I've been here. It's why I didn't make reservations and why I paid in cash. It's worth the extra fifty dollars to not have to fill out any paperwork."

Bella frowned. "Why not?"

I stared forward at the doors. "My parole. It…could cause problems."

Bella was silent for a moment. "You know, since that woman didn't take down any information at all, she could probably pocket the entire amount and no one would know."

I shrugged. "Probably so. But, it isn't my problem."

The elevator opened and we made our way through the quiet halls to the room. I opened the door for Bella and ushered her inside.

The room was medium sized, nondescript, with two queen beds covered in teal bedspreads and vanilla-colored stucco on the walls. Bella walked through the room while I dropped the bag on the bed and figured out how to turn on the air conditioning.

"It looks like they've updated the bathrooms, at least," she called. "Granite vanity, jet tub. Not bad."

"Why don't you take a shower?" I called back. "I'm going to see if the kitchen is still open."

Bella emerged from the bathroom and stood before me for a moment before pushing forward into my arms. I stood, holding her silently, feeling her against me, able at last to breathe a grateful sigh that she was finally safe. After a moment she pulled back, and her dark, solemn eyes met mine. "I don't know how I will ever be able to thank you for what you did for me today."

I smiled and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

"Keep yourself safe. That's all I ask." I kissed her forehead, pulled the bathroom door closed and walked toward the phone.

* * *

Forty minutes later we were sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching Mexican music television and eating room service hamburgers. Bella was ravenous; Jacob hadn't bothered to get her anything to eat when they were running south, and the last thing she'd had was the coffee she'd made in our apartment this morning.

I looked at my watch; one-thirty AM. _Yesterday morning, then._

"Are those clothes OK?" I asked.

She looked down at the clean t-shirt and jeans Alice had packed for her and nodded. "Yeah. They're just fine. Great." She pulled her wet hair back into a messy knot and banded it into place at the nape of her neck.

"Good. I trust Alice remembered all of the necessary toiletries?"

"Yes, everything I need. It's perfect."

I nodded and checked my watch again.

Bella watched me. "Everything OK?"

I nodded and swallowed a bite. "Yes, just checking the time. We need to get some sleep before our flight tomorrow."

Bella's face was confused. "Flight? Where are we going?"

"We're flying first to Guadalajara, then to Houston. We'll reenter the U.S. there and fly to LA. We'll probably be on a plane for eight or ten hours, so be prepared." I held up my hand at her next protest. "Don't worry, Alice packed your passport, so you won't have any problems getting back into the U.S."

"Why are we flying?"

I sighed. "Billy Black tipped off U.S. Customs that I'd be trying to reenter the country at the Tijuana border. We could take a chance and try to cross at the San Ysidro It may or may not make a difference, but I'm hoping that I can circumvent any issues by dealing with Customs in a different state. Just a precautionary measure."

Her brow furrowed, and I watched her. "Everything alright?"

She nodded, but she was grimacing. "I just… I can't believe that after everything I've been through, I allowed myself to get tangled up with Jacob Black. I mean, every alarm bell was ringing in my head, but I kept telling myself, 'no, he's OK, you're just overreacting because of your last couple of experiences.'' She shook her head in disgust, dropped her face into her hands. "I can't believe I didn't listen to you, Edward. I should have pressed charges against him. I was stupid not to."

"Bella, don't beat yourself up over your decision. Everything turned out alright, so let's just move on from here."

She stood and paced to the door and back, her jaw set in irritation. "I can't believe you'd say that, after everything he put me through!"

"Bella, what can we do to change that? Absolutely nothing. The only recourse we have is to make certain that he pays for what he did to you."

Bella stopped pacing and met my gaze. "How are we going to make him pay?"

I smiled. "Alice has some ideas. I think it will all work out."

Her eyes were questioning, but she didn't ask what I meant. Instead, she sat down on the bed again and picked at the remains of her meal. A few minutes later she looked up. "Eight or ten hours on the plane? Really?" She shook her head. "Shit, I don't have any knitting, or even a book to keep me occupied. I'm going to go mad being on an airplane for that long with nothing to do."

I smiled. "From what I hear, it's impossible to get knitting needles through Mexican security. So you're probably better buying a book at the airport."

Bella laughed. "It's not that big of a sacrifice, really." Something crossed her face, a fleeting change.

"What is it?" I asked.

She shook her head and frowned down at her hands. "I just – well, I don't mean to pry, and I wasn't trying to…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The other night, when I slept in your room?"

I waited. "Go on."

I watched her hands as she twisted the covers around them. "I couldn't sleep. And I didn't want to wake you or Alice, so I figured I'd look for something to read in your room. And I found a book… I don't even remember the title, but it was about Roosevelt. Franklin, not Teddy…" Her hands continued to twist in the coverlet, pulling the fabric, covering her hands like mittens. "Anyway, there was… a bookmark."

I blew out a breath, waited until her gaze met mine. I tried to collect my thoughts, readied myself to explain the inexplicable.

"Your letter."

"Yeah. I was just so surprised—"

"'Thank you for sharing with me. I wish that it could have been more, that we could have worked. But deep down inside, no matter how good a match I think we might be, I would always be second to your business.'"

I looked away, toward the television, anywhere but at Bella's face as I recited the rest of her words from memory.

"'It will always be your number one priority, and nothing will change that. You're willing to do things to ensure your success that I can't abide. I don't want any part of that. I am not delivering an ultimatum, forcing you to choose the business or me. I already know that the business would win. I am telling you straight that I can never be second best. I want to be the priority. I settled once for someone who didn't care about my needs, and I refuse to do it again.'"

I paused, the enormity of these words weighing heavily on my shoulders. For so long, I had used these words to connect myself to her, to keep a thread, a wire, something between us. It made what we had shared real, tangible, proved that there had been a connection beyond the physical, beyond what I had allowed myself to feel.

"Edward?" I forced myself to meet her eyes, was comforted by the kindness I saw in them.

"Bella, I fell apart when you left. I'd never had anyone stand up to me like that before. I have always been ruthless in business; instead of it being something that I hid from, it was something I was proud of. I always managed to cut people off before they could get too close."

I reached out to brush back a curl that had loosed itself. "I was afraid that you would leave me… and just as afraid that you _wouldn't_." I pushed my hands into my own hair and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees. "I couldn't handle how I felt about you. I was unprepared for the connection, the emotion…." I shook my head and squeezed my eyes closed. "I had never been in love with anyone before, Bella. And I thought that the only way I could save you from what would surely be enormous heartbreak was by pushing you away. I knew that once you saw me for who I truly am, you would leave, and that it was probably better that way."

I slumped forward and pulled at my hair, taking comfort in the dull pain. I shook my head. _Why am I suddenly feeling the need to bare my soul to her? It's not like it matters anymore._

I felt a soft, cold hand brush against mine, and I opened my eyes. I felt her hand again, pulling gently at mine, encouraging me to relinquish my grip on my hair. I let her pull my hand down, watched as her fingers caressed mine, felt the tingling electric shock that I'd tried to ignore every time I was close to her.

"It tore me up to leave." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "I couldn't understand why you were bent on destroying our relationship, why you had to succeed at all costs, why your business meant more to you than anyone or anything else." I watched her fingers as they traced along mine, turned my hand so she could run them along my palm. "And I needed to make it on my own, Edward. I needed to make my own decisions and be successful because I worked hard and made it happen; not because my boyfriend set me up in a cushy apartment with a cushy job." I stole a glance at her and saw her eyebrows were pulled together in thought.

I closed my eyes again, felt the delicious sensation of her fingertips gliding along the skin of my wrist. "Bella, I have changed so much since then. I thought that it would be so much better if you weren't in my life, that I could concentrate on the business and nothing would get in the way of my success. But I was so empty without you. I got careless, got caught. Maybe I wanted to." I shrugged, looked into her eyes. "It doesn't matter. Getting caught, going to jail… those were the best things that could have possibly happened." She smiled, a small Mona Lisa smile that made me wonder what she was thinking. I reached out and took both of her hands in mine.

"Bella, I've done an extensive amount of soul-searching over the past year. I've recognized that there are consequences to my actions, that two wrongs don't make a right, that people are more important than things. I've destroyed Alice and Jasper's relationship, Emmett and Rosalie's relationship, and the relationship I had with you. Not to mention the lives of the men I bribed and blackmailed." Despite my humiliation, I forced myself to meet her eyes. "I am so sorry for what I have done. I hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

I dropped her hands and looked down at the floor, comforted that I had finally been able to express what had been inside of me for months.

Bella sat on her knees and leaned forward on the bed. "Edward, you cut yourself, faked a crime scene, skipped out on your parole and came to Mexico to save me from a psychotic 'roid head who was using me as bait." She placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me, forcing me to look at her.

"I forgive you."

I smiled at her, that kind, pretty face, those dark brown eyes. I closed my eyes and leaned forward, resting my forehead against hers.

"Thank you."

I waited, but she didn't move. I breathed her in, the sweet fragrance of clean skin and freshly laundered clothes. My heart beat faster as I felt a tingle where our skin touched, a gentle current that lay beneath the surface. I wanted to stay connected to her, feel her nearness… I felt her lips brush gently against mine, and my heart doubled its pace. I pressed my lips against hers, soft, testing. She gave way with a sigh, and I deepened the kiss with a new, fresh need that both shocked and thrilled me.

_Stop!_ The thought radiated through my brain like fire. I pulled away, broke the kiss, breathless.

"I—I'm sorry, I shouldn't—" I tried to form coherent thoughts, but it seemed as if all of the blood in my body was racing through my nether regions, leaving none for brainpower.

"You've just come out of a really terrible situation, and I don't want your emotions to cause you to do something that you might regret." _What the fuck, Cullen? Suddenly you're going to be the gallant, chivalrous man?_

_No!_ I battled with myself mentally. _I cannot take advantage of her!_

_Pussy!_

I put my hands on her shoulders and closed my eyes as I gently pushed her back.

"I think I need a shower," I said. With an embarrassed smile, I moved off of the bed and made my way into the bathroom.

A/N: Just wait until next week. I promise, it will be worth it. Pinky swear!


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: I don't own Twilight. If I did, Breaking Dawn would have been SO much better.**

**SURPRISE! I'm posting this chapter early because my awesome beta, AzureEyedI is coming to visit today! And staying the weekend! I'm so excited!!1! I can't promise that I'll be getting any writing done while she's here, so I don't know when the next chapter is going to post. I hope next Friday, but it just depends…**

**This one is for Bella's Decathexis, my lovely marathon reviewer.**

**REMINDER: ADULT CONTENT**

**Chapter 36**

I shut the bathroom door and leaned against it, my breath heaving.

_I faced down a gun-wielding Jacob Black to rescue her, but one kiss and I fall apart?_

I shook my head and tried to gain control of myself. This was not how I had intended things to go. I felt a responsibility to her. It was my job to protect her since I'd gotten her into this mess to begin with.

I moved to the vanity and ran the tap, splashing water on my face. I took a deep breath and tried to settle my racing mind.

_Why was this bothering me so much?_

Before the situation with Portless, when I forced her to take action, things had been easier, more comfortable. There had been that situation with her former boyfriend, the one that necessitated her moving in with me.

_Still trying to convince yourself that you did what was best for her. Having her move into your apartment with you just so that you could be near her more? Nope, no selfishness there. _

I clenched my jaw against the onslaught of feelings that tore through me. Looking back I could see how my decision had been so rash; I hadn't taken Bella's feelings into consideration. She was a young woman who wanted to succeed on her own, stand on her own two feet after coming out of an abusive relationship. And what had I done? I'd taken away her autonomy, treated her like a child, just so that I could have what I wanted; have her near me, have her with me more.

_And look where it got you, Cullen._

I shook my head and turned toward the shower, opening the valves. I stripped and climbed in, the water so hot I could barely stand it. I rejoiced a little in the pain, feeling something other than the thoughts coursing through my mind.

_What about the time you offered her money to spend the weekend with you, remember that? Treated her like a whore. Way to go._

I clenched my eyes closed and turned my face into the spray, trying to erase the memory of my unrivaled stupidity.

_Do you think you've changed? Do you think you're any different now than you were eighteen months ago? _

Yes, I have. The Edward of eighteen months ago would have shrugged his shoulders and gone on with his life without a backward glance at Bella's plight. The New Edward doesn't believe in winning at all costs, and knows that people are more important than things, more important than success or money.

I let the thoughts crowd through my brain, pushing and shoving, until the hot water ran out. I dried off and dressed in my sleep shorts and undershirt, contemplating the face that stared back at me in the mirror. Deep circles under my eyes a testament to my sleeplessness; there was a little bit of fear, there, too.

_What the fuck, Cullen? You afraid of a little girl?_

I sighed as I realized that, yes, I _am _afraid of little Bella Swan. I'm afraid that she sees right through me, to what a needy loser I am underneath it all.

I turned off the light and opened the door, not wanting to wake her. The television no longer flickered; I could hear the strains of The Sundays coming from Bella's iPod docked in the small sound system.

_I watched you suffer a dull aching pain  
Now you've decided to show me the same…_

She stood in the open door, staring out across the hotel pool, the dark heat of the Mexican night suffocating the efforts of the small air conditioner.

She turned, and I watched the outline of her in the dark, watched her as she moved toward me, sought her face, her eyes, her lips in the moonlight. I needed to see her, to know she was real, to believe she was here.

"You kept them."

I blinked. _What was she talking about?_

"You kept the socks I made for you. You wore _holes_ in them." She held them up to show me, the smile in her voice was unmistakable, and I smiled in return.

"They were comfortable. And they brought me luck." My voice sounded foreign, thick.

"I always wondered if you wore them, or if you let them languish in the back of your sock drawer."

"I wore them." My voice dropped to a whisper. "Every day. I washed them in the little sink every night and hung them up to dry. Every morning when I woke up, the first thing I saw wasn't the locked door or the gray walls. The first thing I saw was that pair of cobalt blue socks, reminding me of you, of what we had." Her hands were somehow in mine. "They reminded me that I had loved you, and that you'd at least cared for me. Some days, that was the only thing that got me through."

Her arms were wrapped around me now, and the ache diminished with the comfort of her touch.

_I know I dreamed you, a sin and a lie  
I have my freedom, but I don't have much time_

"I loved you, Edward. I loved you for protecting me, for helping me, for caring about me." She laughed. "Even if you went about it the wrong way sometimes, I never doubted for one minute that you cared for me."

She pushed back and stood facing me again, her gaze solemn. "I still love you, Edward. There's a part of me that never stopped."

She watched me, a small smile on her lips, as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"Bella…" _What? What did I want to say?  
_

"Edward, please. I want this. I _need_… this."

She stepped out of her cotton pants and the sight of her was more overwhelming, more appealing than I could have imagined. I reached out to trace a finger up her arm to her collarbone, enjoying the feel of her gooseflesh and her little shivers. I moved to her jaw, still touching with one finger, outlining her chin. I placed my palm on her neck, felt her low moan radiate down my fingers into my arm.

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away…_

I pulled her to me, unable to stand the distance between us. I lowered my lips to hers, tasted her, felt her comfortable warmth against me. I wrapped her now-loosened hair around my hands, pulled it to my nose, devouring the scent. I placed my lips on the side of her neck, and her new sigh nearly undid me.

I kissed her neck, allowing my lips to trail across to her other ear, nibbling gently on her lobe. I felt her arms wrapped around me, pulling me against her, pulling me down to her. I pressed my lips to the divot between her collarbones and heard her breath hitch as she dropped her head backwards.

With a moan, she lay back on the bed, her hair fanned out around her like a mermaid goddess. Soon she was bare before me, swathed only in moonlight. She watched me with shining eyes as I rediscovered the gentle curve of her hips, the warmth of her breasts. I reveled in the touch and the taste of her, the feel of her heat and the smell of her sweetness. Her breath caught and in her face I saw naked, palpable desire.

"Please… Edward, I need you…"

I needed no further encouragement. I undressed and moved right above her, waiting, watching her again as I had so many times, taking my fill of her beauty.

"Bella, you are so beautiful…"

In her eagerness she reached toward me, grasped my length in her hand, and I moaned at the touch of her fingers. She guided me toward her center, and I relished the feeling of anticipation, the bare need on Bella's face as she waited for me. My eyes were on hers as I entered her gently, felt the relief and heat as she surrounded me completely. I heard her sigh in pleasure, felt her shift upward to meet me, to take me in completely.

We were joined again after so long an absence, and our bodies moved fluidly as if remembering an intricate dance. She aligned herself beneath me, and the milky light that filtered across the bed threw her body into relief. Her silhouetted movements were corporeal, sensual.

I groaned as she arched against me, drawing me in, holding me fast. Her body began to move of its own volition as I struggled to keep pace, to maintain control over the heat, the light, the sensation that was driving me. The part of me that needed her heat and her comfort was now encompassed within her, and I felt the pulse of her need. She grasped my shoulders with her fingers and drew me up to press her mouth against mine, tasting, testing. I slid my tongue between her lips, probed gently as she opened to me in her hunger, tongue to tongue, her mouth ravenous. Our bodies moved on their own, the heat and the friction of the pace a blur, the desire blinding.

I moved against her, moved within her, felt her moving around me. The smell of her hair, the flash of her skin set in relief against the darkness of the bed, the curve of her breasts beneath my hands, her gasp of air as her craving built, felt her clenching, heard her cry out as she rode to completion the first wave of pleasure. I struggled to maintain control, reached to touch her, melded her mouth to mine, waited until I heard her small, surprised cry at her second climax before I gave in to the pleasure and the sweet pain and released into her, calling her name as I came, feeling her heat spasm around me for a third time.

She lay beneath me as we gasped for breath, warm and sweet and tousled. I started to move, but she reached her arms around my shoulders, held me close, kissed me sweetly.

"Thank you. That was… well, 'amazing' is a good start."

I laughed and kissed her gently before moving off the bed and into the bathroom.

"Do you want some water?" she called.

"I'll get it." I returned to the bed, handed her a warm washcloth and moved to the small refrigerator for a bottle of water. I uncapped it and handed it to her. She murmured thanks and took a long drink before passing it back to me. I took a drink and set the bottle on the night table before settling back onto the bed, pulling her close to me.

I breathed her in again; the scent of her skin, tinged with exertion, the smell of the air, touched by heat. She snuggled down against me and sighed. "I've missed you, Edward. You know, I never stopped loving you."

My heart swelled, and I squeezed her tightly. "I never stopped loving you either, Bella," I breathed into her hair. She shook her head and I felt her smile against my chest.

"What is it?"

She looked up at me and I could hear the smile in her voice. "First time for a multiple. I'm impressed."

I laughed and nodded. "I am, too." I nuzzled her neck and whispered, "Want to try for four?"

She laughed and pulled the sheet off me. "I'm up for it if you are."

I grinned at her devilish attempt. "Let's make it five."

* * *

**Whew! OK, let me know what you think...**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: I know, I know I know... I'm so sorry it's taken forever. But I wanted to get this right. This is the last chapter, and everything else will be wrapped up in the Epilogue, which I hope to post next week.**

**Thank you all for your support, your emails, your reviews. I've spent over a year crafting this story, and I can't believe that anyone else out there is reading it. I love you all.**

**Chapter 37**

"_Limpieza."_

A light knock on the door woke me at ten the next morning.

"_No, gracias. Vuelve más tarde__."_

Bella burrowed underneath her pillow and sighed. "Do we have to get up?"

I slid back down underneath the covers next to her, pulling her against me to warm her chilled skin.

"In a little while we do." I swept her hair up and planted small kisses on the back of her neck. She pressed back against me, and I felt myself hardening at her little hums of pleasure.

She rolled over to face me, and opened her eyes. "What do you want to do right now?" she smiled, and threw her left leg over my hip.

I lowered my lips to hers. "I have an idea or two…"

"Ready?" I asked.

An hour and a half later we were showered, dressed, packed up and preparing to leave.

Bella nodded. "I really don't have anything but this," she said as she handed me the small bag of toiletries that Alice had packed for her. "The clothes from yesterday... they can go into the garbage."

I hefted the duffel bag onto the bed and my cell phone rang.

"How's it going?" I asked Alice.

"Fine. According to plan, actually. Although I think Emmett was a little pissed that he didn't get to drive the Mercedes."

I laughed. "He understands. It's only until we clear the border, anyway. You two ready to go?"

"Yep. When can you be here?"

"I'm in the lot already."

"Come on up. And bring a bag."

Five minutes later, Alice was in our room, sitting on the unmade bed. She looked around and cocked an eyebrow at Bella.

"What?" Bella asked.

Alice shook her head. "Nothing." Her gaze slid to me and her eyes narrowed. "Nice going, Edward."

I feigned wide-eyed innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Alice."

"Two people, two beds, only one used?" She shook her head again. "You decided to bang the hostage?" Alice ducked as Bella laughed and threw a pillow at her head.

"Don't blame him, Alice. He was trying his best to remain decorous. I was the one who couldn't keep my hands off of him." She smiled and moved toward me for a kiss.

Alice gagged and made a show of covering her eyes. "Knock it off, you two. Get a room. Oh, wait—you already did!"

The pillow I launched at her head made contact and sent her sprawling.

"Did you bring the bag, you old prude?" I asked.

She tossed a small backpack at me and gave me a dirty look before moving to the mirror to fix her hair.

"Don't be a hater, Alice," I laughed. "Your jealousy is completely transparent."

I unzipped the duffel and pulled out the small bag Alice had tossed to me last night.

"Hey, that looks like one of the bags that was in Jacob's truck." Bella leaned over and lifted it, and her eyes widened. "What the hell is in there, bricks?"

"Something like that." I opened the bag and dumped out the stacks of banded tens, twenties and fifties onto the bed.

"Oh my God! How much…" she trailed off as Alice organized the pile and did a quick count.

"Looks like about twenty-five thousand, give or take a few." Alice turned to Bella. "How many bags like this did Jacob have in his truck?"

Bella wrinkled her brow in thought. "I know there were at least four, maybe more?" she shrugged.

Alice nodded. "I counted eight bags; six of them had money, two contained boxes with vials of liquid. Hydro- or hyga-something."

"Hygetropin. Human growth hormone."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "I wonder what the street value is on that stuff."

I shook my head. "No idea, but I'm certain that he was acting as a courier. Why else would he run the risk of crossing the border with so much cash and HGH?"

"I think the better question is, How are we going to get back into the States with all of this money?" Bella dropped a stack of twenties onto the bed and stood.

"Customs allows up to ten thousand dollars to be brought into the country without having to fill out any paperwork. If we split it up between the three of us, we won't have any problems."

"Why do we have it at all?" Bella crossed her arms, her face contemptuous.

"Insurance."

"So, let me get this straight."

Alice and I were in the process of explaining to Bella exactly what had transpired over the last 48 hours in a little diner ten minutes from the airport. She chewed her eggs thoughtfully as she attempted to piece together the details of the story.

"Billy Black was pissed off that you were moving in on his business ventures, so he had Jacob kidnap me to draw you to Mexico so that they could beat you up and get you to back off?" She shook her head. "That seems ludicrous. Why would he care? And how would he even know that we had a connection?"

Our waitress stopped to fill our coffee mugs, and I waited until she left to continue.

"It's bigger than that. We started poking around and found out that he's been screwing with the purchase prices on his properties in order to evade paying property taxes, he's been funding Jacob's little anabolic steroid side business, _and_ he's had some shady dealings with a few of the county supervisors." I took a drink. "As to how he was able to make that determination… I think it was Jacob's idea. I don't think it was a very well thought-out plan, and I think we called his bluff when we showed up to collect you."

I stabbed at my eggs and took a bite.

"But the tax thing?" Bella continued. "I don't understand."

I put down my fork. "If you buy a house, your property taxes are based on your purchase price. The higher the purchase price the higher the property taxes. Billy found a way around this by offering to pay the seller a large percentage of the purchase price in cash. They report the purchase price as one third of the actual payment; the seller doesn't have to pay as much in capital gains taxes, and Billy Black's paying one third of what he would have on his taxes."

Alice spoke up. "Let's say you have a house that's valued at one hundred thousand dollars. Not that there are any homes in LA that are that cheap, but I digress…" she waved her hand. "Now let's say you're paying four thousand dollars a year in property taxes on that house. If someone offers you one hundred thousand dollars, but wants to pay seventy-five thousand cash, and list the purchase price as twenty-five thousand, that drops the cost of your taxes immensely."

"It seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through just to save a few bucks."

I nodded. "For the average homeowner? I agree. But not when you're dealing with million-dollar properties. And the tax structure is different for different types of properties; for example, the tax bracket is higher on commercial properties than it is for residential properties. And since Los Angeles County doesn't do market assessment on commercial properties like they do residential properties, it's easier to fly under the radar."

She nodded, and we ate in silence for a few more minutes.

"What about Sam?" Bella stared down at her plate, and I knew what she was asking. _What about the man that Alice had killed? _I met Alice's eyes, saw her grimace at the reminder.

"I don't think we have to worry about that, Bella," I said, as gently as I could.

Alice dropped her voice and leaned forward. "I had Jasper do some checking last night, and Sam Uley is – well, _was_—one bad dude. Jasper did a little unsealing of juvenile records and learned that he was in and out of juvie eleven times between thirteen and seventeen. Everything from drug dealing to armed robbery. At fifteen he was listed as a 'person of interest' in a convenience store shooting in Lynwood." She scrolled through her BlackBerry, ticking off items related to Sam's history. "Oh, that's nice."

"What?"

"GSI on a thirteen year old when he was fourteen."

Bella's face was blank. "'GSI?'"

Alice's mouth drew to a thin line. "Gross sexual imposition. Basically, rape."

Alice's phone beeped. She checked her text, and started laughing. "Remember yesterday, after we got Bella out of the motel, I asked Emmett to wait a second so I could send a text?"

Bella and I nodded.

"I was texting Jasper the license plate and description of Jacob Black's Hummer. He flagged his ride in the U.S. Customs database, so that when Jacob tries to cross the border, he'll be searched."

I grinned at her. "And?"

"And… Jasper just texted me that there was a hit on the plate. It seems our friend Jacob Black is going to be getting a cavity search soon from our friends at the U.S. Customs!"

Bella laughed. "That'll be the first action he's gotten in a long time."

I laughed. "I owe Jasper big time."

"Don't you forget it!" Alice beamed.

We made small talk for several minutes, and I turned to Alice. "Have you heard from Emmett?"

"Yep. I dropped him off at the border last night; he rented a bicycle for five bucks and breezed through the bike lane in five minutes. They checked his ID but didn't search his backpack. He took a taxi from there and stayed at a hotel just outside of Otay. After I cross the border I'm going to pick him up and head home."

I checked my watch. "Are you heading out as soon as you drop us off at the airport?" I asked.

Alice nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I get through."

The plane ride from Tijuana International Airport to Houston was uneventful, but as we began our descent, Bella started fidgeting. I placed my hand on the small of her back, rubbing gently. She leaned over and whispered, "I'm worried about the money."

"When the Customs agent questions you, tell him you're returning from vacation, traveling alone. If they ask you about the money, you tell them you had a lucky streak at the casino. It's only ten thousand, so you don't have to declare it. He'll stamp your passport and you go on through. No big deal."

"What if they search my bag? A tourist coming home from vacation would have a bathing suit, some extra clothes, a camera… I don't have any of that." She bit her lip, and I could tell she was getting nervous.

"Relax, Bella. You're going to be fine."

The terminal at George Bush Intercontinental Airport was busy, and we walked silently through the terminal, dodging tourists on our way to Customs. I gave her hand a squeeze before letting go and slowing down, allowing a few travelers to move in front of me as Bella queued up in the line.

For the first time, I felt the prickles of nervousness at the back of my neck. Bella was a terrible liar; what if they took her aside? Would she be able to explain the money satisfactorily?

I tracked her movement through the line, being careful not to make eye contact with her, and busied myself with checking my email on my BlackBerry. A text from Alice:

_Well?_

I texted back: _In line customs_

I knew I was being overly careful and cryptic, but I'd dealt with the U.S. Government enough in the past to err on the side of caution.

Bella was standing in front of a Customs agent, turning her passport end over end. I wished that I could send out a message to her telepathically; _don't fidget. It's a tell. _She handed her passport to the Customs agent and promptly put her thumb into her mouth to chew her cuticle. Inwardly I winced, and felt my heart rate start to pick up.

_She's going to lose it…_

I was watching Bella intently when I felt the man behind me tap my shoulder and point to an available agent. "You're next, bud."

I nodded my thanks and took my time picking up my bag, stowing my BlackBerry and moving down the line, trying to keep Bella in my line of sight.

"Name?" The Customs agent barely glanced at me as he thumbed through my passport.

"Edward Cullen."

"Are you a U.S. Citizen?"

"Yes."

"Reason for trip to Mexico?"

"Pleasure."

"Do you have anything to declare?"

"No."

He flipped through my passport again before directing me to place my index finger on the digital reader, then showed me where to stand while they took my picture. The official record of my trip back into the United States was unnerving, especially considering the lengths that I had gone to in order to make certain that we left no paper trails in Mexico.

"Welcome back to the United States, Mr. Cullen." The agent handed me my passport and I thanked him, craning my neck to locate Bella.

As I passed through the exit, I saw an agent escorting Bella towards the secondary processing area.

_Oh, shit._

I felt the panic rise in my chest and I struggled to keep it at bay.

_Please, God, don't let her say anything…_

Thirty minutes later, after two phone calls to Alice and one to Jasper, I was pacing near the Customs exit. Our flight to Los Angeles was supposed to board in less than thirty minutes, and we had two concourses to cross.

Jasper had performed his magic and confirmed that there was not a Customs flag on either my or Bella's passport. But the fact that Bella had been selected for a secondary screening was suspicious to me, and I couldn't help the fear that was pricking at my nerves.

I had pulled out my BlackBerry again, preparing to call Alice, when I saw her. Her bag was slung over her arm and she was scanning the crowd for me. I moved toward her and her eyes locked on mine. She looked away, cutting her eyes over her right shoulder, and I watched as a uniformed Customs agent watched her moving away from the processing area.

Bella passed me purposefully, and I continued to stand, rooted to the spot. I thought quickly, and scanned the passengers who were heading my way. One of them, a young blond woman, was replacing her passport into her shoulder bag.

"Excuse me." I smiled at her and she stopped, returned my smile. "I think you may have dropped something out of your wallet." The words were coming out of my mouth without benefit of a brain filter. I bent down to search for the imaginary piece of paper, and glanced up toward the Customs agent. He was watching us with detached interest.

I reached into my pocket and withdrew a business card. "Here it is," I smiled and handed it to her.

The young woman frowned slightly and shook her head. "I… don't think this was mine. I don't know an--" she peered at my name on the card, "Edward Cullen."

I smiled again, turning up the wattage, trying to give myself time to think. "Well, actually, I just used a little ruse to get your attention. I noticed you and wanted to figure out a way to meet you. I knew as soon as you walked by me out of Customs, I'd never see you again." I turned, moved slowly away from the screening area toward the terminals, and a quick glance showed that the Customs agent was busying himself with harassing a man just off a flight from Syria.

She shook her head and laughed. "That's a pretty clever ruse, Mr. Cullen." She pursed her lips and held the card out to me. "But I think my husband would take issue with me chatting up such a handsome young man." She winked, and held out her hand to shake. "But I must say, it was certainly a pleasure meeting you." She tossed her hair, and with one last parting smile, she was off, cutting a swath through the terminal with the air of a woman who has just been complimented on her beauty.

"Nice one." Bella materialized beside me, and I jumped. I looked down at her and smiled. She turned her back and started walking, her bag slung over her shoulder. I caught up to her and took her arm.

"What happened?" I asked.

"From what I could see, you were dazzling that poor woman." She shook her head. "You never have played fair, Edward."

I laughed. "No, Bella - what happened at Customs?"

She shrugged as we stopped in front of one of the arrival/departure boards. "They told me I'd been selected for a secondary search. I did what you told me; kept my answers short and to the point. They asked me about the money and I told them I won it playing slots. He didn't bat an eyelash." Bella bit her thumb as I scanned the board for our flight to L.A. and checked my watch.

"Our flight's been delayed. We have plenty of time. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head and continued. "The Customs guy asked me if I was traveling alone, and the first time I remembered to say 'yes' but the second time I said 'no.' I could tell he got all suspicious, so I said, 'well, I've been traveling alone, but I'm meeting a friend and we're flying to L.A. together.' I guess they bought it, since they let me go. But when I walked away, I knew he was watching, and I couldn't stop, in case they called us both back. Besides, I wanted to give you a chance to hit on that blond."

I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her carefully. "You did wonderfully. Perfectly."

My BlackBerry buzzed in my pocket. I checked the display and texted a reply to Alice letting her know we were through and that our flight was delayed, and laughed at her expletive-riddled response.

I slipped an arm over Bella's shoulder as we made our way towards our terminal.

The plane trip from Houston to LA was uneventful, and a scowling Alice had picked us up once our plane landed. Emmett complained that he was starving to death, so they dropped us off at the apartment before going to get dinner.

"Edward, something has been bothering me since this morning," Bella began.

We sat on the couch together, reveling in the quiet. Bella had spent the last hour on the phone; first with her mother and father, then with the detective at Missing Persons to confirm that she was, in fact, found. He pressed her to come in to discuss what had happened, but she begged off, offering to come in tomorrow. I told her not to worry; we'd contact an attorney before dealing with the police.

She had wanted to go home to her apartment, but I didn't know if the landlord had had her door repaired, or if the crime scene cleanup crew that Alice had hired had taken care of it yet.

I handed her a glass of wine and waited for her to continue.

"Do you remember when Jacob said something about 'taking away the only thing that meant anything to him'? What was he talking about?"

I frowned at the memory. Jacob had been on the verge of losing control, waving a gun around and screaming at his friends. "When we went to see Billy, we told him what we knew about his business dealings; the tax evasion, the bribery, the drug trafficking. I said that we would not go to the authorities on two conditions. One, you were unharmed. and two, that he had to sell Core Fitness to you."

Bella's eyes went wide, her fleeting smile chased away by a frown. "That's really great, Edward. Problem is, I can't afford to buy it. Not on my strippercise salary."

I shook my head. "No, Bella. He's agreed to sell you the club for one dollar."

She turned to face me and blinked, unbelieving. "Is that… really? He can do that?"

I nodded. "He has to do that. Otherwise, we'll go to the authorities." I grinned at her as she absorbed the news. I watched her smile overtake her entire face, and she glowed with excitement. "All we have to do is have an attorney draw up the papers."

She squealed and reached toward me, throwing herself into my arms and hugging me so tightly I couldn't breathe. "Oh, Edward, this is so exciting! I can't believe it! What made you think to do this? Why me?" she trailed off, and I could see her mind racing.

She leaned against me, and I smiled at her effusiveness. "I don't have any evidence, but I suspect that when Billy purchased the club, he intended to use it for money laundering. As an added bonus, it kept Jacob busy – and out of Billy's hair. But when you showed up, and your classes started making money, which meant the club was turning a profit, it wasn't worth it for Billy to hang on to it. And since he knew about Jacob's little side business, and figured that the accountants would be nosing through the books to see if everything added up… he figured it would be safer if he just sold it to us.

"Problem was, Jacob got angry when he found out; he didn't want Billy to sell the club, since it was his base of operations for his drug running. Billy had to retract his agreement since Jacob was such a loose cannon, and nobody knew what he would do. Turns out, he kidnapped you and took off to Mexico. Even Billy didn't know about that."

Bella nodded thoughtfully. "So, when did you decide to approach him again?"

"When we knew that Jacob was the one who had taken you. We held all of the cards, and it was something Billy wanted to do, anyway. He wasn't too thrilled with the price, but he's getting out from under the business."

She shook her head in amazement and leaned forward to put her glass down. "I still can't believe it! I'm going to own my own fitness center." The smile on her face was infectious, and I leaned over to kiss her lips, stopping myself only barely.

"I'm sorry, Bella. We haven't discussed this…" I faltered, unaccustomed to not knowing exactly what to say. How could I tell her how happy it made me be able to do something for her? How easy it would be to take her into my arms, how comfortable it was to have her nestle against my chest. My arms ached to hold her, but I didn't want to assume anything about our newly-rekindled relationship.

She reached out a hand and rested it on mine. "I think we 'discussed' this last night, Edward. I love you. It's only been you since the moment I saw you. But I had a lot to work through; I needed to learn to let go, and you had to learn to love. I know that I've grown and changed, and it's obvious that you have, as well." I let her turn my hand over, and closed my eyes at the feel of her finger tracing the lines of my palm.

I opened my eyes and turned to face her, my smile wan. "I put you in danger, Bella. I involved you in this deal that could have killed you—"

"You saved me, Edward."

"I wanted to see you. I wanted to know what you were doing, who you were with, if you were happy…" I trailed off and shook my head, angry with myself. "I orchestrated this entire thing out of selfishness. What if Emmett, or Alice had been hurt—"

"You took care of them, Edward. And they took care of you. They love you."

Despite the guilt that weighed on my shoulders, I felt a buoy of hope in my heart. Was it even possible?

"I drove a wedge between Alice and Jasper, and who knows if they'll ever be able to reconcile?" The confessions continued to tumble out, the joy I felt just a few moments ago darkened by the pain that sat just beneath the surface.

She smoothed away my anguish with her hand, absolution in her caress. "If you're going to blame yourself for things, how about if you make it things you have control over? Blackmailing people, yes. That was wrong, and you paid the price for your actions. But what happened between Alice and Jasper wasn't your fault. And Rosalie…" Bella shook her head. "Well, she made her own decisions. She offered to help you out, and you _were_ wrong for agreeing; you have to acknowledge that." Her eyebrows knit together, and her voice softened. "Rosalie got herself into trouble for more than just taking naked photos, Edward. She was on a path to self-destruction. And she succeeded."

She fell silent, and I absorbed the weight of her words: _She loved me. She didn't blame me._

Was it possible? Could it be that this amazing woman, who had been through more with me than just about anyone else, who knew my weaknesses and my pain, my courage and my doubts… could she?

Bella leaned toward me, eyes shining with emotion. She smiled, and I closed my eyes, wanting to remember her like this… filled with joy and promise and devotion.

I felt her whispered breath in my ear. "I love you, Edward."

I smiled. "I love you, too, Bella."


	38. Epilogue Part II

**Well, it's taken me forever, but I've finally managed to finish the epilogue to Part II. To all of you reviewers, and people who favorited either me or this story, and put it on your alerts: YOU kept me going. Every single 'update, please!' reminded me that there were others out there who liked these characters and wanted to know what would happen next.**

**To mah UUers, you are the best. I love you.**

**This one is for my beta, AzureEyedI. Thanks for sticking through this with me, for encouraging me, for being constructive and hilarious and awesome. You ARE my sister. I flove you, babe.**

**EPILOGUE PART II**

**Six months later**

**EDWARD**

The heat and light of downtown Los Angeles hit me full force as I exited the Bradbury Building onto West Third. I smiled to myself as I speed-dialed Alice and headed toward the Volvo, parked in a lot halfway up the block.

Alice picked up. "You did it." Her voice was matter-of-fact but excited.

My smile widened. "Yep. I was able to work out a discount on the lease and I also got a few leads on some prospects."

"Edward, that is so wonderful, I just can't even begin…" she trailed off, and in my mind I could see her, sitting at the dining room table in our little apartment, spiky hair askew, face in her hands. I expected to feel a wave of remorse over the struggles we'd faced over the past year, but within me was only calm and absolute confidence.

"I know, Alice. And the best part is, it's just the beginning. There is so much good coming our way, I can _feel_ it."

As I hung up with Alice, I noticed Origami Bistro at the end of the block and decided to pick up sushi before driving home.

Over tuna roll, Unagi and various other morsels, Alice and I discussed the details of the move.

"Downtown L.A." she asked, more of a statement. "You're sure about this?" She Googled the building and frowned. "Doesn't really look like much."

I nodded. "No, it's definitely nondescript from the outside. But it's in a historical building with landmark appeal; movies have been filmed there, it's centrally located, and we were able to cut a deal on rent. Plenty of space, nice and light… and did I mention that you'll have a window office?"

Alice raised her brows at me, mouth full of avocado and crab, and swallowed with difficulty. "Not bad, Edward. Although you know I'll have to see it. Make certain I approve."

I grinned broadly at her. "Oh, I think you'll really enjoy it."

She narrowed her eyes at me but didn't ask about anything else, which was a good thing, seeing as how I've never been all that good at keeping secrets.

Two weeks later I was unpacking boxes and setting up shop in our new office on the fifth floor. The space was loft-like, with white walls and high ceilings and warm wood trim framing large windows. Our space had four window offices clustered at the corner of the building, divided off from the large reception and internal work areas by low walls. I sat on the floor of my office, moving files into my new cabinet, when Alice knocked on my door.

"Hey! Glad to see you're back. How was Vegas?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Same as always. Ran a few shows, sold a few outfits, made a few bucks."

"Good for you." I was in danger of smiling wider than I needed to, and as I stood I looked back down at my task. "Do you remember which office is yours?" I asked, my face still averted.

"The next one down, right?"

I nodded, not looking at her for fear of what my look would give away. "I had them hang your prints. Come on, I'll show you."

I listened as she walked down the hall and entered the next office behind me. I heard the sharp intake of breath as she saw her workspace for the first time. She was speechless for a moment, and ran to sit on her couch, run her fingers along the edge of her desk, and sit behind it in her chair.

"You brought everything!" she squealed as she jumped and flitted toward me, grabbing me in an effusive hug.

I nodded and hugged her back. "I decided it was time to get all of your stuff out of storage," I said. I know how much you loved having your things about you."

I watched as her eyes drifted to the wall and widened. "My prints!" I laughed as she ran to the wall and ran her hands along the bottoms of the same artistic prints that had hung in her office up in New Journey.

I smiled ruefully. "I wasn't sure about putting them up in an office, since they are a bit _risqué_, but in the end I decided that it's your space, and you would like having them. And if we end up with a particularly conservative client, we can always meet with him in the boardroom."

She smiled, and the effect was that of a small child on Christmas.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I have another one to add. Otherwise the wall just looks wrong." I stepped out into the hallway. "Can you bring that package, please?" I asked.

The man standing in the doorway of the next office walked forward, a large framed picture in his hands. I removed the paper from the front of the print so that Alice could see it.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"It's an Amaryllis." I stated. "It's one of the first things I photographed after I moved here."

Neither of us moved for a minute, looking at the black and white print of a beautiful flower. "I thought you might want a reminder of where you came from," I said softly. She turned to meet my eyes and nodded. "It's beautiful" she said again.

I smiled and turned to the man. "Would you mind giving me a hand hanging this up?"

The man smiled back, but he wasn't watching me. He lowered the picture and watched Alice's eyes intently as they tracked the movement of the large flower.

Finally her eyes raised to meet his, to acknowledge his presence, and for a moment I thought she would have a heart attack. She swayed on her feet and only just grabbed on to the back of one of the chairs. "I'll be damned" she whispered.

"Jasper?"

Jasper's grin widened as he met her eyes, and Alice rushed toward him, a pint-sized running back high on crack, laughing and crying as she kissed him and hugged him over the large framed photo. I gently slid the frame out from between them and leaned it against the wall in what I hoped would be a spot safe from Alice's fulsome outpouring of emotion.

"I can't believe it's really you!" I heard her muffled sigh as she buried her face in his neck. "I've missed you so much, Jasper."

Jasper bent his face to her hair and held her close as he whispered, "I've missed you, too, Darlin'."He smiled and turned toward me, and I saw the tears shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Edward."

I nodded at him, not trusting my voice, and found my way back to my office.

After snogging in Alice's office for a good half an hour, Alice and Jasper appeared in my doorway and suggested going to lunch. I called Bella to tell her that there would be four of us for lunch, and she was happy to hear that Jasper had made it home safely. I texted Emmett to let him know that the Eagle had landed, and read his profanity-laden reply aloud to Jasper's great enjoyment. Alice was miffed that everyone else seemed to have known about Jasper's return, but her pout lasted for all of ten seconds.

Tricaso's was a small Italian restaurant fifteen minutes' drive from the new office. We met Emmett at the door and had just been seated when Bella walked in. I waved her over and pulled out her seat as she apologized for being a few minutes late. After ordering, we got down to telling Alice how we'd managed to keep Jasper's return a secret.

"When we were reviewing the lease agreement, I proposed to the owner that we upgrade all of the wiring for the cost of materials, and we'd foot the installation bill. He was all for it, and so I called Jasper to get a quote on what he'd do the job for. When he gave me his price, I asked him if he'd consider coming home to do it if I doubled his fee."

Jasper laughed, and it was good to see a smile on his usually subdued face. "How could I argue with that offer?"

Alice reached her arm around his elbow and twined her fingers with his. "I just can't believe that you didn't _tell_ me."

Jasper shrugged, and I watched with interest as his cheeks colored slightly. "Well, Alice, we've been Skyping for a while now, and you never asked me about whether or not I wanted to come back to LA, so I didn't really know if you _wanted_ me to. I figured it was best not to ask."

Alice was wide-eyed with surprise. "I never asked you because _I_ didn't want to pressure _you_! I figured you'd come back if _you_ wanted to!"

Jasper smiled a small smile and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I guess maybe we should have talked about that, huh?"

Emmett made a gagging sound and Alice threw her napkin at him. He dodged and she called him a few choice names before the waiter came back with the bottle of Champagne I had ordered.

"So what do you two think you're going to do this weekend?" Bella asked as the waiter poured our flutes.

Emmett snorted and I raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she blushed. "Well, you know… Have you two had time to make any plans?"

I laughed. "I think Alice and Jasper need a bit of time alone to catch up. And since I need to make my final meeting with my parole officer, I was thinking about taking off early on today and driving up to Oregon for the weekend. Checking out some property. I thought you might want to come with me."

Bella chewed on a breadstick and nodded. "I don't have anything going on until Monday afternoon, so that would work. Sounds like fun!"

We raised our glasses and I looked around me at the faces of these people I had known and loved for years, who were my family and my closest friends, who had gone into hell with me and trusted me to bring them through safely. There weren't enough words to express how I felt about them. I swallowed and cleared my throat; best to keep things simple.

"To family, friends and the future."

Alice and Jasper took off after lunch, so Bella dropped me off at my apartment before running home to pack. I dug my weekend bag out of the back of my closet, considering; other than one short weekend trip to Napa Valley, we hadn't been anywhere alone together since we'd returned from Mexico.

_Mexico._

That single word brought back terrible memories of death and bloodshed and fear. None of us ever discussed it, since talking about it made the horror and the danger real. We came away from Mexico physically unscathed, but we all carried the knowledge that a young man had died at our hands, and regardless of how necessary it was to our survival, it was a consequence we all were forced to live with. I struggled to keep them at bay, but sometimes the memories would surface in my dreams. _A doorway between two hotel rooms stretched endlessly, Bella on the other side, screaming my name, and me unable to find her in the blackness. Blood streaming down the walls with Mexican music television playing in the background. The sound of gunshots, the sizzle of pain as the bullets embedded themselves in my arms. _

Bella developed a moderate case of merinthophobia. I had encouraged her to seek therapy for her fear of being tied up, and she had thus far refused; she was concerned that she might need to divulge the reasons for her fear to a therapist, and was afraid of what the repercussions might be. I tried to tell her that it doesn't matter, that she needs to deal with the issues, regardless of the consequences for the rest of us, just so that she can overcome her problems. She insists that she's fine.

Her nightmares told me otherwise; she still wakes up screaming with her hands and feet held rigidly behind her. Her phobia preys upon her, exacerbating her feelings of weakness, and she has trouble in situations where she isn't in control. I have to say I understand where she's coming from; we've _both_ been working on that aspect of our personalities.

I thought about everything we'd been through over the past two years; Bella running from an abusive boyfriend, taking a job she didn't want, dealing with me and my overbearing ways, deciding what to do when she found out about my extortion plots, coming to LA and striking out on her own, dealing with Billy and Jacob Black, Mexico, struggling to face her fears and build a business on her own merit.

I smiled as I opened my dresser drawer, searching for something else I needed to pack, and my fingers touched the cobalt blue socks Bella had knitted for me so long ago. As I fingered them, I thought of how far she had progressed since then; these were the first pair of socks she'd ever knitted. The last time I had shown them to her, she pointed out the numerous flaws. Although I failed to see them, she was quick to judge her work. It was an interesting reminder, comparing this first pair of socks with the intricately patterned socks she churned out nowadays. I wondered if she would ever be able to step back and appreciate how beautiful her work was, instead of fixating on the errors she'd made.

Business-wise, Bella's errors were few and far between. Thanks to Billy Black's upholding his end of the bargain, within a few weeks of our return from Mexico we had received the paperwork from the attorney confirming Bella's new ownership of Core Fitness. Bella had immediately started making changes, expanding the Strippercise program, even recruiting a guy from Pole Divas in Australia to teach a men's Strippercise class.

She'd made some staffing changes as well. Instead of firing the clueless girls Jacob Black had hired as Pilates instructors, she moved them behind the front desk and hired licensed instructors and several personal trainers. When we discussed the reason for her changes, she explained that the girls were obviously attractive, and that they would help draw male clientele. She also dropped membership fees, offered a greater discount on classes for members, and added more classes to the a la carte list. Bella was of the opinion that allowing clients to come in for one class, instead of requiring them to pay a full membership for access to the facilities, would give them the opportunity to check the club out and see if they were comfortable. People think they're getting a better deal when they don't pay for things they don't use; why should the Strippercise class students pay extra for the weights and cardio equipment? She wanted the club to be client-centered.

The changes were working; she'd been featured in two recent articles; the Entrepreneur Spotlight feature in the LA Times and a full-length piece in _Fitness Today_. In addition to drumming up clients, the articles had caught the attention of investors. Bella was drawing up plans for expansion to a second location, and Emmett was doing the majority of the design work.

Emmett had been accepted into USC's School of Architecture and was working between seventy and eighty hours a week between the company and school. He'd been living in an apartment that was three blocks away from where Alice and I were living, and he'd had more than enough work to keep him busy. In fact, there were times that I actively wished that he'd never gone back to school, since it seemed that his time there detracted from his ability to work for me, but I understood; he needed this for himself, and to prove to others just what he was capable of.

Jasper was the biggest surprise of all; I'd talked to him a few times after our Mexican excursion, and he had been more interested in coming back to the states than I had realized. I was still taken aback by the idea that he hadn't even discussed the possibility with Alice. Jasper was a very quiet person, but always so intuitive, able to read the emotions of those around him. Perhaps the physical distance between them had affected his ability to see what it was that Alice truly wanted. And Alice, in her typical boisterous way, had quite possibly run roughshod over him. Where Alice was bold and tell-it-like-it-is, Jasper is nuanced and deals in gradations.

A thought struck me. Emmett and Jasper had always gotten along well, and with Emmett's hectic schedule between work and school, he was hardly ever at home. I wondered, if Jasper was planning on hanging around for a while, perhaps it might be a good idea for him to talk to Emmett about moving in. I shrugged; maybe I'd mention it to Emmett when we got back on Monday.

A knock at the door pulled me from my reverie. Bella, on her phone, walked in and dropped her overnight bag in the living room. "I think we're scheduled for Tuesday morning. One of my associates is well-versed in the field, so why don't I give him a call and see if he can meet with us to discuss some of the investment angles?" Bella's eyes found mine and she winked.

She finished her call and dropped onto the couch next to me. "That was Erin Weider."

She stopped, and I guessed that I was supposed to know who this person was. I frowned.

"Erin Weider? Granddaughter of Joe Weider? The father of modern bodybuilding? She's the Vice President of North American Operations for Weider Global Nutrition."

I nodded. She blew out an exasperated breath and continued.

"She's based in LA, and she saw the piece in _Fitness Today_. They have expressed an interest in coming on board as investors. For the past few years they've concentrated on nutritional supplements as opposed to magazines and workout gear, but the market is changing and they sense it. They want to meet Tuesday morning to discuss our options."

Bella beamed, and I smiled in return. "It's good that you're moving so quickly on this. The fitness field changes so rapidly, it's imperative to strike while the iron is hot; capitalize on the popularity."

She nodded thoughtfully. "That's why I was hoping that you could meet with us. If anyone is capable of moving this along, it's you."

I grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

Half an hour later, we were heading north, away from the bustle of Los Angeles toward the relative quiet of northern California. I checked my email and made several business calls while Bella drove, insisting on taking her new Mercedes E550. I smiled a little when I thought of how much she had fought me on buying a new vehicle when her old '53 Chevy finally died.

"Remember, we're switching off at the Willows rest stop," I said, and she nodded.

"Just find some decent music to listen to while we drive."

I scanned the satellite radio until I found something that we could both agree on, and we chatted off and on about business, Alice and Jasper, Emmett and the girl he had been seeing from his Building Structures and Seismic Design class. Occasionally she would sing along to the radio, and I laughed at her, belting out Florence and the Machine completely off-key. There were long stretches of companionable silence, and I thought of how nice it was to just be together.

At Willows, Bella grudgingly switched off and I drove the rest of the way to New Journey. I'd decided on a small hotel just outside of town, not wanting to cause a stir with anyone who might recognize my name. We drove to New Journey Fiber Arts, and Bella took great joy in surprising Madelyn. After chatting for a while, asking how Alice was doing, and buying up just about every bit of Koigu she carried, we went to dinner at the Valley Country Club. Some of the stares were less than friendly, but I've always prided myself on my ability to disregard unimportant opinions. Several members came over to say hello, ask if I was back in the area, and see how business was going. I smiled and said that I was currently based in LA, doing quite a bit of consulting work for a health club guru. I smiled as Bella blushed, but I could tell she was pleased.

After dinner we drove down through the park, the setting sun cast its golden light along the river. I parked in a small gravel lot and turned to Bella.

"Feel like walking?"

She shrugged. "Sure. As long as it's not a hike. Not in these shoes." She showed me her heeled sandals.

I got out and moved to open her door, helping her out onto the gravel. Bella looked around, and after several minutes she spoke. "I remember this place! Isn't this where you took me for that little picnic?"

I smiled. "So, you _do_ remember." I took her arm and brought her around to the trunk of the car. I popped the lid and reached in to grab a small picnic basket and blanket. She grinned at me and I grinned back as we stepped carefully onto the path, walking west toward the setting sun.

We turned a bend, and there was the spot we had picnicked so long ago. "I remember I was trying so hard to impress you, to make you think that I knew what I was doing, to seem so cool and aloof. And the whole time I felt like a sweaty-palmed teenager without a clue." I laughed as I set the basket down and unfolded the blanket, and Bella's eyes widened.

"Seriously? The great Edward Cullen, master of all things, was afraid of little old me?" She shook her head. "You always seemed like you knew exactly what to do. That's one of the things that attracted me to you. It made it hard for me when I wanted to do things my way, but I realize now that you only did what you did out of love, and because you didn't want me to be hurt."

I looked at her in surprise. "Really? You understand that now?"

She nodded. "For a long time I just thought you were an overbearing jackass. But I came to see that your heart was always in the right place. That's enough for me now."

I smiled and helped her down onto the blanket next to the riverbank. We sat together, quiet, listening to the sound of the river as it moved, watching as the ripples changed and moved and rolled along until they converged together and passed out of sight.

Bella leaned against me, and I kissed her head. "Cold?" I asked.

She nodded, and I slipped my jacket around her shoulders, holding it so that she could put her arms into the sleeves. She murmured thanks as I reached for the basket.

I withdrew two glasses and handed them to Bella, then set about opening a bottle of white wine.

"Tomorrow I'll be released from my parole, and I'll be free to buy property out of state. Business is going really well, thanks to you and your business acumen. Emmett and Alice and Jasper seem like they're finally in good places in their lives. And, perhaps most importantly, I feel like I've changed so much as a man over the past year."

I poured our wine, wishing I had slices of pear to add to her glass. I handed Bella her goblet, stood and walked toward the water, gazing at the trees that clung to the edge of the riverbank. _The current washes the soil away, yet the roots hold them fast._

I turned and faced her, watched her eyes as she scanned the quiet vista before her.

"Throughout everything I have faced in the past few years, you, Bella, have kept me grounded. When I could have been washed away a thousand times over, you stood by me, held me fast." I felt the small lump rise in my throat, and I swallowed. "Thank you," I whispered.

She nodded with a small smile and took a drink from her glass. I watched as she fisted her right hand into the jacket pocket for warmth. Her smile changed, and her brow knit in mild confusion. My heart started to race, and I again felt like a clueless teenager. I watched as she withdrew a small blue box wrapped in white ribbon. Her eyes grew large and her lips parted in surprise as I dropped to one knee before her and took the box gently from her hands.

I set down my glass on the ground beside me, pulled carefully on the bow and lifted the light blue lid embossed with the words TIFFANY & CO. Inside sat a small white box, and with shaking hands I opened the hinged lid.

Nestled against the creamy white satin was a two-carat cushion cut diamond, surrounded by tiny bead-set diamonds. Bella gasped and her eyes widened even more.

I thought again of the independent woman who sat before me; a woman who wanted to survive on her own, who started out by running away from her life but decided to make her own way in the world without assistance from anyone. I thought of how she'd fell into my life, how she'd changed the way I look at life and love and success and failure. I thought of how she made me want to be a better man.

"Isabella Marie Swan," I whispered. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She sat, frozen for a moment, staring at the ring. She looked up, and the last waning shafts of sunlight reflected the tears in her eyes. I waited, and the few seconds that ticked by was interminable.

She cleared her throat and met my eyes. "If you had asked me this question even six months ago, I would have said no. When I found out about the blackmail, I was so angry with you for doing something so heinous, and then pushing me away so that I would be the one forced to break things off. But you've truly, honestly changed, Edward. Sometimes I look at you and I expect one thing to come out of your mouth, and you completely surprise me by letting others make decisions, call their own shots. Yet you still are there, pulling for their success, doing whatever you can in the background. You've never, not _once_, tried to tell me what to do with this business, or with Jacob, or with my life in general. Yet you are there to help, there with advice, or a shoulder for me to cry on. You've really become my partner in more ways than just business."

I absorbed everything she said, waiting on tenterhooks for her to get to the point.

She smiled at me, pulled me close and kissed me.

"I love you, Edward Anthony Cullen. I have loved you since the first day I met you, when I was barely able to tell you my name, and embarrassed to say that I was reduced to exotic dancing for a living. I hated you for taking over my life when Mike came back, but I loved you for wanting to do it. I was so scared when… Jacob…" she faltered, and I reached out to steady her so she could continue. She took a deep breath and kept on. "When Jacob took me, the entire time I knew, just _knew_, that you would save me. No matter what, you would find a way to me. And you did.

"And I will love you forever."

And there it was. Simple, and beautiful, if a little confusing.

She deepened the kiss, her lips pressed gently against mine, her tongue probing, her moan a caressing breeze. I reached a hand into her hair, winding the silken locks around my fingers, drawing her closer as the heat blossomed between us, enveloping us both.

She put her head back and sighed, and I let my lips trace down her jaw. "So, does this mean you accept?" I asked, as I nipped her earlobe.

She shivered. As she whispered 'yes' softly against my lips, the sun sank below the horizon and evening gave forth to night.

**THE END**


End file.
